Harry Potter and the Nature of Magic
by Vent Maitre
Summary: What if you were told there was more to magic than just spells? Join Harry on this novel length adventure as he learns about magic on both a fundamental and personal level. Read as Harry learns that there is no substitute for hard work, and no easy way of dealing with life's problems. Will depart from cannon as cannon magic is boring. AU Post 4th yearHP/DG Updated to M for violence
1. A Precious Heirloom

**AN**

I don't own anything. I wish I did, but I don't. I've been in Fanfiction for about nine years now, but I made a new account. I will write ahead of updates. Currently I am around 30k words, which I plan on making most chapters besides the first a minimum of 10k words. I am going to continue writing it to get this idea out of my head, so it's up to you if you want to review or not. As I am doing this on my own please bare with me as I write it. I will do my best to avoid any mistakes in plot or grammar. Enjoy!

* * *

Harry Potter stared out the window of his bedroom at number 4 Privet Drive. He gazed out at the overcast sky, reflecting on the similarities the clouds had to wizarding Britain. Both dark and dreary, and both moved by unseen forces. Not moved by magic but rather forces of seemingly worldly power. Both the clouds and the world were constantly shifting, swirling, as if every second the powers were shifting and turning. A small patter of rain fell on the window, as if to wake Harry from his thoughts. Glancing over at Hedwig sleeping in her cage with her head under her wing, Harry was starkly reminded of the innocents within the world, both mundane and magical. They might live in the world, but they had little control over the proverbial winds moving it. Hedwig just learned to ride the winds and make the best of it. Little did she know that her very existence was in danger both due to the nature of the world and her being associated with Harry.

Sighing miserably, Harry reflected on the month that had just been. The third task had been terrifying enough. The maze hedges closing in and strangling Harry had plagued his dreams over the past month. Perhaps it stemmed from living in a cupboard for the first 10 years of his life, Harry mused. Regardless the fear of being in small places was something Harry did not like to admit too. It wasn't all consuming fear that made him incapable of doing anything, but it was a situation he would rather avoid. The monsters of the maze had little effect on Harry. Harry reflected on the creatures he had meet in the past four years, and wasn't necessarily surprised the monsters didn't bother him. "After a Basilisk does a large spider bother me?" Harry mumbled to himself. No the monsters weren't really a factor in the fear of the third task. What bothered Harry was the isolation of it. When the entirety of your world is twelve foot hedges, one gains a perspective on isolation.

Thanks to his nightmares, Harry had little trouble recalling the events of the Graveyard. It was a bittersweet memory for Harry that also contained horror and helplessness. Still a small part of Harry was happy to have talked to his parents, even if it had only been a few brief moments. For the first time in his life Harry had come face to face with what ,many would consider the loss of his parents. They weren't just other people's stories or faces in the Mirror of Erised. He had his own tangible memory of them now. It made Harry reflect on his choices. They had given their lives for his. Harry had always thought; if he could give up his life to save another would it be worth it? But reflecting on his parents sacrifice would he in turn be sacrificing their sacrifice as well as his own life? Shaking his head Harry thought of Cedric. If only he had been faster or stronger. He could have saved him. Regardless of all the evil Harry saw that night, the most sickening thing to him was not the murder, or the ritual, but rather the feeling of helplessness he had in the Graveyard. Harry realised his life wasn't about playing chess with Ron all night anymore. He couldn't afford to do that. Looking at his own reflection in the window, and the clouds behind it, Harry came to a sad conclusion. Whatever was left of the minimal childhood he had was over. His enemies would not treat him as if he were a child. He had a duty to become stronger, not just to himself, but to his parents.

* * *

Harry sat on the edge of his bed thinking about his previous four years at Hogwarts. They were dangerous at best, and deadly at worst. He had to kill someone in his first year, self defence admittedly, but it still happened. How many 11 year old's had blood on their hands? His second year hadn't gone much better. The isolation of everyone thinking he was the heir of Slytherin made for quite the lonely year. Then to make matters worse he had to go and kill the damn snake. Harry had protected those who had bad mouthed him all year. Not that he would change it, but it did leave a slightly bitter taste in his mouth. Third year in a way was Harry's favorite year. The dementors were both a wonderful thing and a terrible thing at the same time. For the first time Harry had a memory of his mother talking. It was odd that Harry would sometimes long just to relive his worst memory just to hear her voice again. Gaining Sirius that year was a godsend for the next year to come. Harry hoped to this day that he and Sirius could live together, whenever his godfather was free. Last year had only served to enforce Harry's bitterness towards the population of students at Hogwarts. Everyone hated him for becoming a champion even when he didn't want to be one. That wasn't really the part that bothered Harry though, what bothered him is those same people started to cheer for him when he did well. How fickle can people get?

Harry leaned back onto his head board making a sudden realisation. Why did it seem like Voldemort was fixated on him? Harry had always thought of it as Voldemort having nefarious plans, that he stumbled onto, but he had been sought out in second and fourth year. What was so special about him, that Voldemort would go to such lengths to get his hands on him? Voldemort put a fake teacher in Hogwarts for an entire year, and the only thing they did was send Harry to the graveyard? Harry didn't consider himself an evil mastermind, but he would have done more than that with that kind of mole in place. Getting up and heading for his desk, Harry grabbed a quill and parchment and began to scribble a letter to Dumbledore.

Professor,

I was sitting on my bed thinking about my last few years at Hogwarts, and with a bit of self reflection discovered a scary coincidence. It seems Voldemort is fixated on me. Do you know why he might be focused on me, other than what happened when I was a baby?

Regards,

Harry

Harry set his letter on his desk making a mental note to send it tomorrow night after Hedwig got some rest. Regardless of Dumbledore's reply, one thing was certain to Harry, and that was that he needed to get stronger faster, as Voldemort seemed to target him. Harry would not go down without a fight, he would survive as long as he could. There was no way he was going to just sit back and let people walk all over him. Not just Voldemort, but also all the people who called him the heir and a cheat. Gone were the days when Harry would let someone else dictate his life. What Harry didn't know was that as he was stealing his resolve about his future, thousands of copies of the the Daily Prophet were rolling off the press calling him a plotter, and claim he made up the story of the graveyard to gain more fame.

* * *

A quiet tapping on his window woke Harry the next morning. Grumbling about a terrible night's sleep and having to walk across the room, Harry made his way to the owl who had dared raise him this morning. It was Harry's first bit of mail this summer break, and Harry wasn't as excited as he thought he would be. Harry, rightfully so in his mind, was grumpy with his two friends. It had been a tough year for the three of them. With Ron's attitude at the start of the year, strain had begun to work its course of the "golden trio". Harry scoffed as he look the letter from the owl. They were friends, yes, but that didn't mean they were as inseparable as the rumor mill as Hogwarts seemed to believe. Hermione had ended up being between the two boys most of the first half of the year. As a result both Harry and Ron were unhappy she had taken the other side so to speak. Was it Harry's fault Ron had been a prat? No, so why did Hermione spend time with Ron after the disagreement? Obviously it was a tough situation for Hermione, but Harry couldn't help but feel slightly put off. Besides, it had been 15 days into the break and neither Ron nor Hermione had written.

Turning over the letter and opening it with a slide of his finger, Harry recognised the messy scrawl of his Godfather. Smiling inwardly, Harry retreated to his bed to read the letter. After picking a spot without springs poking through, Harry straightened his glasses and began to read.

_Hey Pup,_

_Sorry I haven't written sooner, but I had to lay low for a while. I have a lot to tell you so I wanted to meet up to this afternoon. Go on a walk, and I will find you. Bring your Dad's fancy attire yeah? See you soon,_

_Padfoot_

So he wanted him to bring the cloak? It was a risk for Sirius to come to Little Whinging, but if it was important to talk to Harry, Harry couldn't fault him. Mild curiosity peaked in Harry. What was so important that Sirius come all the way here? Not that Harry was complaining, but it seemed like an odd trip on such short notice. Glancing at the clock Harry saw he had a few hours until it could even start to be considered the afternoon. Throwing his shirt and trainers on, Harry made his way to the front door. His daily run was calling. Harry had been running for the last week, and it still seemed pointless at times, but Harry kept telling himself it would help in the long run. If he had learned nothing from the Triwizard Tournament, he had learned the importance of endurance in magical battle. He had briefly considered working out to build muscle mass, but thought losing his quickness wasn't worth the base muscles. Besides, Harry rather liked being wiry and quick. It fit with his dueling style at the moment. Harry barely noticed the raining hitting him as his feet made the repetitive motion of dropping one in front of the other. Each stride seemed to jar his body and drain what energy he had. He hoped that in time this damn running thing would help him, and would be easier as time passed. Harry hated feeling weak. Harry hated his morning runs, but he hated the memory of being exhausted at the graveyard more. Each time he felt a bit of fatigue and felt like quitting he steeled his will and gave another burst of speed. It was a punishment to his mind. Harry was not a quitter, so he was conditioning his mind with punishment each time he felt like quitting. The one nice thing about going for runs was the wind in his face. For some reason, Harry never felt more comfortable and more powerful than he did with wind in his face, swirling his bangs up and to the right. Flying, regular wind, or running it didn't matter what the source was. The physical act of wind blowing against him filled him with confidence and resolve to push harder and go further.

Realising he was close to getting back to his relatives house, Harry pushed hard and sprinted the last 100 meters. Panting, Harry looked to the sky, blinking each time a drop of rain hit his glasses. Could he move the clouds? Harry would try his damnedest, he would not be forced to go with the flow of the wind. He, Harry James Potter, would be a force moving the wind. Drawing closer to the front steps harry shook himself off. He didn't want to get an ear full about disrespecting the house and all the hard work put into it. Slipping inside Harry made his way to his room in search of a change of clothes. Upon arriving at his trunk, Harry searched in vain for clothes that would fit. Harry decided that he really needed clothes of his own. He should really get a few sets in Diagon Alley this summer he mused. After pulling on a shirt that only had a few holes in it, Harry picked up his Standard Book of Spells Grade 4. Cursing the fact he couldn't do magic, Harry pulled out his parchment and began to take notes of spells that could help with fights. He wished he could do more than read a few silly books, he already knew, in the summer. But wasn't magic spells? He needed to get better at magic for the years to come if he had any chance at all. _Avis_. A spell that conjured birds around the caster. Potentially useful Harry thought. Could he dictate where the birds went? What made the decision of where the birds came out and where they went afterwards. In his notes Harry labeled birds with the idea that intent might have some effect on control of the birds. Harry really was curious what caused magic to react the way it did.

The dog flap on the door signaled his "lunch" had arrived. He might be free of the locks on the door, but he still wasn't allowed to get food from the kitchen. The threats of a convict Godfather only went so far. A single piece of stale toast and a half glass of water. Turning to Hedwig, Harry gave her half of the bread. "No need for you to starve because of me," he said to his owl. Hedwig hooted reproachfully, but ate the bread anyways. Stroking her soft white feathers, Harry nibbled on his own bread. Glancing at his clock Harry noted he only had a few more minutes before he went to go see Sirius. Dumping his water into Hedwig's container, Harry turned towards his trunk. Tossing in his notes and Spell book, Harry withdrew his Invisibility cloak. Harry quickly ducked out of the house as to not "disturb" his relatives. Harry decided to walk to the nearby park. He approached the curb where he accidentally summoned the Night Bus in his third year.

"Hey there cub! You look tired," came Sirius' voice from behind him. Harry spun around, and jumped.

"Sirius!," he cried enveloping him in a hug. "What's with all the cloak and dagger?" Harry wordlessly handed him the invisibility cloak. As he watch Sirius throw the cloak on, Harry sank onto the park bench. Feeling a weight settle down to his left, Harry turned and ask, "Is everything ok? Did something happen?"

"Besides what happened to you?," asked the pointed voice. "I came to talk about the future, for both you and me. I wanted to make sure you took this conversation the right way."

"Meaning? Are you worried about me being upset?" asked Harry, looking out at the park and the merry-go-round shifting in the wind. The sun had come out and was shining a few rays down through the low clouds.

"Not particularly," sigh Sirius. He paused as if trying to pick the right path to follow. "I want you to prepare. The time for a childhood as come and gone, not that I imagine you had much of one to begin with." He tone darkened, "What with me going off and leaving you here."

"It's not your fault. I'm fine." muttered Harry uncomfortably. Harry would never tell Sirius the extent of what happened at the Dursley's but it didn't take a genius to figure out some of what had happened.

"Well in any case," started Sirius before shaking his head ruffling the cloak. "I wanted to make sure you are taking the right steps towards the future. I want to protect you from Voldemort, but I can't. What I can do is help you Harry. I can help train you by getting books, answering any questions you might have, and you can sure as hell bet I'll be right there fighting beside you. As much as I want to shield you from Voldemort, it's impossible. He has hidden allies in the least likely places." Sirius sounded as if he was admitting all his faults and was asking for forgiveness.

"I don't expect you or anyone to shield me," said Harry. "He wants me, I just have to make sure to make him regret his choice. Which means hard work. I've been thinking over this the past few weeks. It seems to me I have two choices. I could bemoan my life and complain how it's not fair, or I could just do it. Ya know? There really isn't much of a choice. Who knows what will happen. The only thing I know is I don't want to feel as weak as I did in the graveyard."

"You are too wise for your years Harry," Sirius began, "I want to help you. I can't train you in person. I can give you the tools and knowledge to succeed however. I have a book for you. It's not published or anything, but it was Lily's. She seemed to think there was some connection between mundane science and magic. Both in anatomy and Chemistry. It was her personal research book. I had taken it to show it to my cousin Andromeda to check her ideas. She is a healer you see, and I got left at my house when it all… happened."

"My mum's book on magic theory?" Harry looked down at the journal being offered by Sirius floating hand. He took the book almost reverently. It was a bound brown leather journal. Unmarked but well worn.

"Bare in mind Harry, not many people are as insightful as your mother, but she is by no means perfect in the field of study. Think of it as a starting point. How can we truly use magic if we don't understand it? It's my understanding that mundanes are progressing faster and faster with science. Never before has there been enough knowledge on both sides to understand the difference of magic and science. Your mother was on the verge of a breakthrough, but had to go into hiding. I can think of no better starting point than your mother journal."

"Sirius I…," started Harry at a loss for words. "I can't thank you enough. Even if I can't understand it, its something close to her."

"Trust me Harry," laughed Sirius, "you will understand it. I learned more about the theory of magic in 15 minutes of reading that than I did all of my last year. And I had a lot of time to study since your parents were running around like bunnies that year." Harry could hear the smile on face though his words.

"That's more horrifying than anything I needed to hear," yelped Harry yaking as if it could help him un-hear Sirius' joke. "But seriously there is magic theory? I thought it was just spells?"

"There are many types of magic," explained Sirius, "like spells yes, but also rituals, ambient magic, loose magic, elemental magic, and physical magic. Hell there is magic almost everywhere. You can push magic into muscles to move faster. It kinda makes your blur into smoke in a way, but yeah, there are many types of magic. Once you find your magical core you can expand it and tighten it much like your abdomen. It's what makes auras. It's often used in duels too."

"Why duels?" asked Harry interrupting. "It seems like a waste of magic that you could turn into more spells."

"Imagine a water hose. If you were to widen the hole more could come out yes? What would happen if you put your thumb over the hole? The flow out would become faster but less controlled. It would use less magic if you constricted it. So for a barrage of spells, many tighten up their core so to speak, but harder magic you have to loosen up and let your aura show a bit. It's like charging up your power for a difficult spell. Now powerful wizards like Dumbledore and Voldemort, perhaps Moody, can fight the whole time in a powered up state. More importantly, they can control the excess magic to shield them and power their muscles. That's why even though he is 150 years old, Dumbledore is still a formidable opponent."

"And how do you find your magical core?" asked Harry. The idea of magic helping in duels appealed to him.

"Meditation. You have to look inwards and find what makes you… you," said Sirius simply. "It's a personal journey. No one's journey is the same as anyone else's."

"I can't wait to try it in September, said Harry excitedly.

"You know magic that's not done with a wand isn't traceable. I wouldn't go making visible smoke behind you as you run, but you can certainly try meditation and ambient magic as well as elemental magic probably. I wouldn't advise fire if that's what you find you can do. Think of it as pranking the ministry," laughed Sirius. "Listen Pup, it's getting late and I'm not even suppose to be here according to Dumbledore. Before I forget… I made you my heir. Due to my time in Az… well that place, I can't have kids of my own. It doesn't mean much besides being a part of my family officially. That is assuming you don't mind?"

"I can't imagine another person alive I'd rather be family with," answered Harry thickly. "Sirius, I'd be honored."

"Good we will have to go to Gringotts together soon then. Perhaps when you go shopping we will get it done. I'll talk to Dumbledore and see when we can go as, it needs to be done somewhat soon."

"Maybe I can get the Shopping list early this year, and we can go in a weeks or so," said Harry hopefully. "Plus maybe I can finally get some clothes that fit, and maybe some books to study."

"I will talk to Dumbledore and see what I can do. In the mean time continue to exercise and practice Harry. I want to see you get through all this and have the life you deserve."

"I will," replied Harry. "My days of playing chess and Divination are over. I will be strong and I won't let anyone walk over me."

"You are your mother's son Harry. Don't ever forget that. Take the cloak I'm going to change into Padfoot."

"Thanks for coming Sirius," muttered Harry. Grabbing the invisibility cloak revealing a massive black dog on the bench. Barking happily Padfoot trotted off towards the trees to the right. A spot pop later, and Sirius was gone back to where ever he was hiding. Sighing Harry got up and wandered back down the sidewalk, pondering his conversation with his godfather. Only Sirius could drop a proverbial bomb like that at the end. "Oh yeah, you are my heir now no big deal." Harry snorted. What could have happened to Sirius in Azkaban? Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know really. Depression scared Harry. It wasn't that he was depressed so to speak, as much as he wasn't really sure how to deal with it. Harry knew intellectually Azkaban weighed on Sirius more than he could imagine. What was he suppose to do about it though? It wasn't that he felt obligated to help or felt pressured in anyway. But he was sure that there was something he could do to help his godfather. Perhaps it was simply doing the best he could to overcome Voldemort's death wish upon him. Harry sighed as he got to his relatives house. He went in to do the chores we would undoubtedly have to do today. He really wanted to avoid another fight with his uncle.


	2. The Feel of Magic

**AN **

**I had planned on this being the first part of chapter two, but I decided to split it into two chapters, as it was about 17k words. I didn't want to turn the second chapter into an info dump, so I added a bit of action and separated out the heavy theory parts. **

**As always please remember I am doing this alone, and I'm not the greatest at spelling and grammar but I will do my best. Also I don't own anything. **

**Enjoy~ **

* * *

Harry Potter's feet kept up a steady pace of dropping in rhythm of the pavement, never faltering lest he consider himself capable to quitting. The mere thought of quitting made him pick up his pace. Harry had been running for eight days, every morning, rain or sunshine. Harry's mind was not particularly focused on the running however. Before collapsing after his chores, Harry had been able to quickly skim the first few pages of his mothers journal. He rather quickly realized the very first thing he needed to do was to find his magical core.

"_Meditation_," Sirius voice from the previous day washed over Harry. How was Harry suppose to meditate? He didn't really know where to begin with meditation. From history class in primary school Harry remembered the monks in Asia who slowed their breathing in order to slow their heartbeat. It might be as good a place to start as any. Harry doubted there would be any correlation between the two. Sirius had said that no one's "journey" as he had put it, was the exact same as anyone else's. Harry guessed the best way for him to find his was to try focusing on where his magic stemmed from. The tricky bit would be finding some magic to trace back to his core. As far as Harry knew he was not actively using any magic, so how was he suppose to trace anything back to his core? Putting on a burst of speed, Harry blew past the park where he and Sirius had talked yesterday. Fatigue was wearing on his body, but he refused to give up. In many ways, Harry reflected, he saw his running as a physical manifestation of his will power. Each time he forced himself to go a bit harder, a bit further, Harry felt that much stronger even though his physical body got weaker temporarily. Coming up to the corner to turn back to his relatives house, Harry switched to an all out sprint. Sweat pouring off his his body, Harry gasped and struggled to catch his breath as he pushed his body to the very brink. Collapsing onto the front lawn, Harry gazed up at the sky. Fiery and hot was all he could think of, about the sky. He preferred the rain to this heat any day. His ragged breath heaved, as he gasped, his body trying to catch up and give the the oxygen he needed.

"Freak get inside! I will not tolerate your weirdness on display to the neighbors! What would they think you lying there like that?" came Harry's Aunt shrill half whisper half shriek. It was really remarkable how she could manage to sound like she was both whispering and yelling at the same time.

Not wanting a fight, Harry muttered, " Yes Aunt Petunia."

"You stink! Don't they teach you freaks to shower?" Harry didn't want to point out that Dudley always smelled like he had showered in weeks, so he kept his mouth shut. "Take a shower boy! I don't want your stink messing up my house!"

"...Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry sighed. Shifting past his aunt, Harry made his way to take a shower. Grabbing a set of ragged clothes and a towel, Harry jumped into the washroom. Leaving the shower cold, Harry let the water rush over his body. He really didn't like the heat, he much preferred the cold of water or a nice breeze. After getting out of the shower and toweling off, Harry inspected some of the scars of his childhood, Harry once again swore to never be weak again. He knew his childhood hadn't been easy, but it wasn't the emotional or physical abuse that bothered him about it. It was his memories of pure terror and helplessness. The fact that it was at the hands of his "family" had little effect on him. He had never once growing up considered himself as part of the Dursleys. Granted they had made sure he never felt welcome, but he was sure he never felt or considered himself part of their collective.

Walking back to his room, Harry tossed his towel on top of his trunk to dry, and went and sat against the wall, where the AC vent pointed out into the room. Harry focused on the feeling of the air blowing against his lower back. Feeling each oscillation of the air blowing against his skin, Harry focused on slowing down his breathing. Closing his eyes he tried to clear his mind and slow down his heart beat. The more he tried to not think about anything the more Harry thought about. Sighing, Harry once again focused on the wind on his back. The wind reminded him of soaring through the air on his broom. Smiling slightly, Harry allowed his conscious to be overwhelmed by the feeling of the wind in his face. His heart soared with every twitch of the broom and jumped for jump with every dive. Opening his eyes upon his broom Harry could tell there was a purpose to his flight. A direction only his mind could take him, not his thoughts. Soaring up into the clouds Harry found it. He smiled, not expecting to find his core so easily. A different journey for every person revealed a different location of a person's magical core. Harry knew where his was. He wasn't sure how, or why he couldn't feel it before. Above his chest, but below his neck, there was a swirling mass of power, both that made him feel small and awestruck at the same time. It was not a small amount of power, but by no means was it large. Harry didn't know how he knew, he just knew. His core was bigger than average but by no means was it unheard of in its magnitude. It was an odd sensation, like finding a muscle you didn't know you had. It felt a bit like swallowing, but without any physical manifestation. A truly odd sensation Harry reflected. He understood what Sirius meant about flexing and opening up his magical core now. At its natural state, it resided about the same size of his body, but he could draw it in and make it smaller, much like flexing a muscle. At the same time he could push it out, much like pushing your belly out. When he pushed it out he could feel the ambient magic around him.

This was magic, in its rawest form, Harry could feel it almost sing to him as if he could feel every part of it move with him, and around him. Harry had be excited to go to the wizard world and get away from the Dursleys, but for the first time Harry was excited about magic. He was excited to see what it could do, what it could allow him to do.

Hopping up Harry grabbed his mother's journal of his bed stand. Laying down to avoid any springs poking through his mattress Harry began to read. His mother's first ideas on magical research dealt with the similarities between muscle and a magical core. Harry had been taught that your magical core was what it was. It never grew or shrank outside of a "magical maturity". If what his mother was hypothesizing was true then working out his magical muscle would let it grow in strength. Just like Harry worked out his muscles by running every day, in theory if he were to almost magically exhaust himself everyday, he could grow in magical strength as well. Harry was excited by the possibility of growing in strength. The examples of power in the world seemed to fit that theory as well. Dumbledore for all his legend of power was the controller of the Hogwarts wards, something that would tax his magical energy to charge everyday. Voldemort for all his evil was exceptionally powerful, and had done some incredible feats of magic. He was able to enchant a dairy with his magical essence and personality at the mere age of 16. Voldemort was constantly running night raids and murder sprees at the height of his power. The idea could help Harry dramatically, he would have to test it out as soon as he could. If Harry could figure out a way to do some type of magic, he could start training his magical core.

Sirius' talk with Harry had revealed there were more than a few ways to do magic outside of wand waving. Unbidden a memory of Snape jumped into his mind. "_There will be no silly wand waving…"_ Harry laughed, remembering how grumpy the greasy potions professor was on his first day. Snaps life was a sad one if his greatest joy was being a bully to kids. Clearing his mind of his pity for the sad potions master, Harry once again focused internally. Could he feel a drain if he tried to do something with his magical core? If Harry could passively do magic he, could in theory begin "working out" his magical muscle. When he expanded his core and felts the magic around him, it felt more natural than anything. No drain, not so much as a trickle. Harry frowned. He had assumed that pushing a core out would be his best bet of magical core consumption. If tightening core lessened magic consumption in a fight, and expanding his didn't cause any strain, how could he cause his magical core to become exhausted. Almost as if a second thought Harry pulled his core in, and that's when he felt it. A small drain, small but definitely there. Why would tightening his core cause a drain in magic? Perhaps the act of tightening his core was like standing in a dueling stance. While a dueling stance is ideal for quick reactions and better mobilization, it would be rather silly and exhausting to go throughout a day in a dueling stance. The question was, could Harry drain his core by holding it in?

Harry wondered if he could do his regular workout while attempting to work out his magical muscle. He has two problems going forward. First he didn't know if magic was like a muscle at all. As loath as he was to admit it, his mother could have been wrong, and there very well could be a chance that magic can't grow by excessive use. Secondly Harry didn't know if tightening his core would be enough of a workout and also if he could do something else while tightening his core.

"No time like the present," muttered Harry. Steeling his will, Harry stood up and instantly his core returned to normal. "Damn." Harry recalled Sirius telling him that duelers do this while dueling. Harry knew it was possible, he just had to figure out how his core worked in relation to his body. It was like chewing he decided. If he chewed normally nothing ever happens, but if he focuses on it, chewing seems off and weird. Harry had to just do it, without thinking about doing it.

Several hours later Harry was extremely pissed off. Nothing he tried was allowing him to pull in his core while moving. The only time he could pull it in was when he put his entire focus on pulling it in. Sighing Harry made his way to the window. At this rate Harry would just wither under the pressure of the sun. He needed to make vast strides, and soon. Today was a hot miserable failure. Deciding it was best to keep working Harry went back to his bed and picked up his mother's research notes. She had focused on a two main ideas it seemed. Well more than that, but most seemed to be crossed out or scribbled over with some type of notation for direction to another page or idea. Harry had heard Hermione compared to his mother before, so in a way he has assumed his mother had been organised, but this book was chaotic at best. A glimmer into her mind and her thought process. The ideas were and currently are brilliant to this day, but making sense of the book seemed to be an exercise within itself.

Lily's first idea was the magical muscle idea. Harry dearly hoped this theory was proved correct, because if it was then it would be a huge chance for him to catch up in magical strength. Not that Harry was particularly weak per say, but he just wasn't quite on the level of Voldemort and Dumbledore. To be frankly honest with himself, Harry was nowhere near them in terms of raw power. Harry would do his best to work everyday to help close the gap. Currently he needed to find a way to magically exhaust himself, as he didn't think controlling his magical core was enough to do that. Putting aside his current flux with magical exhaustion, Harry returned to his mother's journal.

Her second developed theory was that magic was similar to electricity. Harry couldn't really understand this theory yet, but it had something to do with the theoretical flow of electrons in a circuit system. Lily had underlined the thought that some people were more receptive to the vibrations of the electrons. Harry didn't really get what that meant. It seems she was trying to figure out why muggles were different than wizards, but instead had decided some wizards were "more capable of receiving information of electrical discharges based on area vibrations". It sounded like she was suggesting that people could sense or hear magic. Setting aside his attempts at understanding the theory of magic moment, Harry instead decided to once again focus on attempting to magically exhausting himself. He decided to give moving while holding in his magic a chance again.

Slowing his breathing, Harry pulled in his newly found "magical muscle" tightening his grip on his magic sucking it within his body, as if he was holding in a deep breath, without actually breathing in. His chest felt large, as if it were over expanded. Harry once again felt the small pull on his magic as he held in his magic. The problem was that unlike other workouts Harry did, he didn't feel the strain at all. In Harry's mind there were two possibilities. First, which he hoped wasn't true, was that his mothers theory wasn't correct, and making your magical core bigger wasn't possible. Second, was that his core wasn't big enough that holding it in was a workout, much like how holding up a piece of parchment wasn't difficult. In order to discover if his mothers work was correct, Harry needed to attempt a different way of depleting his core.

Mentally making a list for himself, Harry noted he had two things to do in regards to this experiment. First find a new way to do magic in the summer. Sirius had told him of a few non spell based magics, so he would have to try one of those. Secondly Harry really needed to figure out how to hold in his magic while moving. If his assumptions about his magical core were true, the ability to hold in his core would be huge down the road. The ability to hide how much magic he had might prove incredibly useful in the months to come. He would have to worry about the other parts to the journal at a later time, once he had looked into the muggle side of the research so he could grasp his mother concepts.

* * *

A brilliant flash of light tore Harry away from his practice on moving whilst holding in his core. Drawing his wand and spinning to the location of the flash, Harry was surprised to see Fawkes perched regally atop Hedwigs now vacant cage. Upon further inspection Harry noticed a letter in the phoenix's claws. Stroking Fawkes' feathers, Harry took the offered letter and absentmindedly cooed to Fawkes. Fawkes let out a trill that made Harry think of disappointment, but hope for the future.

"Tell me about it," murmured Harry. "I know I need to become stronger." Another trill filled Harry with hope for the future and the idea that Fawkes had not meant him with his disappointment. Offering what he had left of his water from his "lunch" to Fawkes, Harry sank down onto his bed to read the letter from the Headmaster.

_Dear Harry,_

_It's nice to hear from you during the summer. I sincerely hope that you are finding your summer break to be most agreeable. I must express my considerable concern that your break has been filled with thoughts such as the ones you inquired about with me. It is most dearest wish for you to be joyous and carefree in the summer, and leave the worrying such as this to the adults. There will be a time where together we will face this question you have posed to me, That time is not now, however. I wish for you to enjoy your school years and do your best to put these thoughts in the back of your mind. Additionally, Sirius has approached me about you getting away from private drive to do some shopping early. I was sorry to have to tell him no. At this time it really isn't safe for either of you to go out. I wish you the best during your holidays._

_Cordially,_

_Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore_

Harry was absolutely livid. How dare that man be so demeaning to him. No it wasn't that it was demeaning, it was that he was treated like a small child that pissed Harry off. Harry was now doing everything he could to not be as weak anymore, and it seemed like Dumbledore was going to try and stand in his way. Harry doubted the headmaster would intentionally get in his way, but rather seemed to be of the opinion that was a young child still. It was almost like he wanted Harry to be asking for permission to go out and play. Harry respected the man a great deal, but knew he was completely wrong about this, and Diagon Alley. If it was important enough for Sirius to come talk to him about it, then it was important enough for Harry to fight to do it. That and Harry hated having his freedom restricted. It was a sure fire way to get into his shit books, as he equated that to his time at the Dursley's.

Dumbledore probably thought he was being kind and supportive of Harry. However, in Harry's opinion there is a time in everyone's life where they have to grow up. That time was not dictated by age, but rather by necessity. Lets face it, with all the dangers he faced yearly, Harry really couldn't rely on the headmaster to protect him. To be frank, Harry thought the headmaster had done a poor job previously, as he had faced danger every year. So in Harry's mind, he had to get stronger and do it himself. His time to grow up had come, and he would be damned if he was going to be stifled by anyone as he became stronger. Realizing it was getting late, Harry made a mental note to send a letter to Sirius about that shopping trip. Harry flopped down onto his pillow and tried to find a spot with no broken springs to get comfortable. As Harry slowly drifted off to sleep he focused on the feeling of his magic. It provided a great warmth to Harry knowing it was there.

* * *

"Wormtail get me Lucius, I require his contacts," command Voldemort, as he sat upon his throne in his hideout. Slytherin green adorned the walls of the dark spacious room, just as he liked it.

"Yes my lord," groveled the snort nosed weakling in front of him. He was bent over as if that was helping him show respect. "Your wish is my command."

"Oh and Wormtail…" began Voldemort as he twirled his wand in his fingers. The already dark room seemed to darken a bit as Peter slowly turned to his master. Fear flickered across his face, as he took in the formidably angry dark lord in front of him. Quickly attempting to recall if he had done something to offend the dark lord, Pettigrew bowed his head waiting for his master to speak.

"Crucio," shouted the dark lord with glee. It had been too long since he took in the screams of anguish and terror. He would have to wait but for now he was content to toy with this rat.

Many miles away, Harry Potter woke with a start. His body was covered in sweat, his nerves ringing with pain. It felt as if a thousand knives were sliding in and out of his skin at the same time. Yes, Harry was definitely under the effects of the Cruciatus curse in his bed room. A cry of sheer agony escaped Harry. His skin was on fire, and his body was contorting is agony. Eventually the curse started to wear off. Falling off the bed Harry tried to make it to the waste bin before he was sick. Harry didn't make it and collapsed onto the floor next to a pool of his on sick. His body trembled as shock started to take its hold of him. Why could his dream relate to his physical presence. How could he feel it here?

"BOY! YOU WILL NOT YELL IN MY HOUSE," came the the call from the fat waste of space that called himself a man. Harry could hear the heavy footsteps headed his way. Mentally bracing himself for more pain, Harry listened to the locks on his door click one by one as his uncle made his way into his room. "Boy! it is 3 in the morning I won't stand for this shouting," came the voice as his door swung open. Grabbing Harry off the floor and punching him square in the stomach, Vernon Dursley made his first of two mistakes. Vernon did not pay attention to his surroundings, not noticing the puddle of vomit beneath him and the strange person behind him, with bright green hair.

"I'd watch yourself Walrus." Vernon spun around and made his second mistake as he took a step back and slipped. Harry watched him fall almost in slow motion his back landing smack in the pool of vomit that was beneath him. The whole house shook, as if there had been an earthquake. "that's when you know you need to lose weight tubby" Harry chucked a bit, but was still in a phenomenal amount of pain.

Nymphadora Tonks for her part knew that no one here knew who she was, and would probably have some explaining to do. But for the life of her she disliked this lard filled man in front of her. "Wotcher Harry, give me one second I'll handle this." she reached for her wand and drew it.

"FREAKS IN MY HOUSE!," shouted Vernon beneath her, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation. "I'll kill you b…" was all he go out before Tonks sent a stunner his way. Suddenly the air was cold and a small wind seemed to whirl up and blow Tonk's way. Looking up Harry Potter was standing two feet from her with his wand almost pressed to her neck.

"You will explain yourself, and not do another thing or so help me I will start casting cutting curses ministry rules be damned. He was a sight to behold. His aura was flared, his normally green eyes, seemed almost blue with rage burning brightly in them. A small wind swirled around him indicated by his messy hair lifting off his forehead occasionally as if blown by a breeze. Tonks realized it wasn't as if there was a breeze, there actually was one! Harry was passively doing magic she realized. Tonk's doubted Harry knew what he was doing. The aura plus a bit of elemental magic from the looks of it. The glowing eyes were usually a dead giveaway for elemental magic. Tonks doubted Harry even knew what elemental magic was, let alone knew how to do it on purpose. " You will hand me your wand and start explaining your presence now," commanded Harry.

"Whoa there cowboy, I'm not here to hurt you," started Tonks. She started to raise her hands as if to surrender. Suddenly in the blink of an eye her wand was snatched from her hand. "Hey! give me my wand back." Tonks was a bit wide eyed not really expecting any sort of hostility from Harry. Harry's aura was really damned impressive Tonks thought. How many fourteen year olds can bring out their aura?

"No. Explain." Harry didn't trust people easily after all that happened with Mad eye last year. "I'll be damned if I trust you without proof."

"I'm here guarding you over the summer," began Tonks "Dumbledore asked me to watch over your house incase anything came your way. I didn't think the demons were inside, but I came when you screamed." Tonks was holding her Hands up reassuringly, as if to show Harry she wasn't here to harm him.

"Bullshit. Tell me how you got here and who actually sent you. Dumbledore didn't set up any guards. He would have told me." Harry words cut through Tonk's like a hot knife through butter. It was clear he wasn't going to let Tonks talk her way out of this.

"Would he? He isn't particularly known for sharing information," pointed out the now grey haired Tonks. Harry's aura was starting to flicker. What ever had affected him before Tonks got here, was taking its toll on him. "You don't look so hot. Let me help," pleaded Tonks.

"What would you do in my place?" asked Harry. "You have given me no reason to trust you, and several reasons not too. I will admit Dumbledore probably wouldn't tell me but i need something more than that."

"You talked to your Godfather, Sirius Black, recently at the nearby park." Tonks smugly smiled, but really wanted Harry to give her wand back. He did not look well, and she needed to either check him or get Dumbledore.

"How do you know about him?" Harry looked angrier now.

"He told me," said Tonks. Harry start to wobble on his feet. Sweat was pouring off his face now, and he looked even more exhausted.

"Ok fine, I'll give you your wand but, you need to give me proof that Dumbledore sent you. And if you point it at me I'll start cursing," said Harry as he handed Tonks her wand. His wand remained pointed straight at her neck. Tonks for her part took the wand and spun around so her back was facing Harry. She sent a patronus charm to Dumbledore asking him to come to Privet drive.

"I've just asked Dumbledore to come here himself," said Tonks turning around. "I can appreciate your dedication to vigilance, but I can assure you that if I was a death eater, you would be dead by now. You should sit down and let me look over you. I can't imagine you aren't in pain after your uncle punched you."

"I think I can decide for myself who I trust and who I don't." Harry was physically shaking now. Every limb seemed to be vibration at its own pace. A look of pain flashed across his face, but was quickly covered by determination. A bright flash of phoenix fire announced the arrival of the headmaster. "It seems you are indeed here because Dumbledore asked you," said Harry as he collapsed onto the bed in pain.

"I told you that like fifteen minutes ago," muttered Tonks. Turning to the Headmaster she added, "He started screaming, and I came inside to double check and the fat one was punching him. I don't know why Harry is placed here but I can assure you Sirius will likely have your head if he isn't moved."

"Ah Nymphadora, Harry," said Albus warmly. Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore was a good many things. He was phenomenally gifted with magical power, as well as intelligence. He was kind and to many a grandfather figure. However, he was not gifted in any sort of fashion sense. Standing proudly at one hundred and fifty plus years of age with a phoenix on his shoulder, Dumbledore was dressed in bright yellow and magenta night robes.

"As happy as I am to see you, and I promise I'm so happy to hear from you," started Harry sarcastically, "What the hell are you wearing?" With that Harry promptly passed out leaving a quite shocked headmaster behind him in the waking world. There was a moment of pauses where Tonks, and the headmaster stared incredulously at the fourteen year old in front of them. Time seemed to slow down for Tonks as she stared between Harry and Dumbledore.

"I dare say, he is quite upset with me," chuckled Dumbledore. "It's been quite a while since anyone was brave enough to talk to me like that. As for the robes I got them as a Christmas present from my good friend in the Americas. He assured me the were the pinnacle of fashion over there." Dumbledore was looking down at his robes with a smile, as if he was lost in thought.

Clearing her throat, Tonks motioned towards Harry. "Perhaps now is not the right time to be discussion fashion sir." Harrys body seemed to be spasming even though he was unconscious. Waving her wand over the frail body of the young Harry Potter, Tonks began running what healing diagnostic charms she knew. Harry's body flashed dark red and Tonks frowned. "Is there any reason he would have been exposed to the cruciatus curse in the past 12 hours? He has heavy nerve damage on par with exposure to the curse sir." In a flash, any joyous or careless nature was gone from the headmaster, as she sent Fawkes to Hogwarts to get madam Pomfrey. His wand was flying over Harry's body casting his own charms. Tonks had backed away from the body knowing that they had past her boundaries of healing knowledge. "He had his aura up for a solid ten minutes, but is showing only a few signs of magical exhaustion. I had assumed thats why he was shaking. I never dreamed it would have been an unforgivable. I swear I didn't let anyone near him. I had proximity wards up and...Oh god Sirius is going to kill me." starting Tonks frantically.

"No one was here, fear not young Nymphadora. No this is Tom's magical signature." Dumbledore was confused. That didn't happen very often.

"Who is Tom, and where is he? Why are you not freaking out someone get in here and cast an unforgivable at Harry." Tonks was pulling her rapidly changing hair, as she worked herself up.

"Calm yourself my child. The only person who was here tonight was Harry. Tom Riddle is also known as Voldemort. He and Harry share a special connection, both from the curse and otherwise. The question is not who, but how."

"Don't people need wands to cast a curse like that?" asked Tonks calming down a bit. Her hair had stopped flickering colors and had stilled on a morose yellow. She started to take notice of the state of the room around her. Flicking her wand she repaired the bed, levitated Vernon and cleaned both him and the floor up. "I'll take this one out of the room."

"Nymphadora, you might want to make him forget our little adventure here ever happened. And Magic is peculiar. For normal people a wand would be required, but with Tom and in particular Harry, anything is possible. I will deal with Madam Pomfrey and Harry, whilst you take care of his relatives." Dumbledore seemed both happy to have an intricate problem, and sad that it was at the cost of pain. His eyes twinkled, but seemed to express a deep heartfelt sorrow at the same time.

"Yes sir. I will report back when I am finished." With that, Tonks walked out of the room levitating Vernon's boulder of a body behind her. Dumbledore turned back to his ward, and began waving his wand muttering spells to dampen the pain of the cruciatus curse until Pomfrey got here with a pain reducer and dreamless sleep potion, as well as a magic restorer as Harry was seemingly magically exhausted.

* * *

"Tonks, you don't have to hide. I can hear you following me," Harry chuckled. It had been three days since the late night drama at his house. What a whirlwind that night had been. The next morning was spent recovering and trying to understand why he could feel some of the pain spells that Voldemort was casting. Together with the headmaster, he had pieced together a theory on the pain curse. Normally magic needed to be up close and personal, not hundred of miles away. However, due to a mental connection Harry was both within Tom's mind wherever he was, and physically in Surrey. Harry still didn't really understand how there was a connection, but Dumbledore had been mumbling about arithmancy and curse's lasting effects. Harry had decided not to prod, at the time due to not being happy with the Headmaster, but somewhat regretted it now.

"Wotcher Harry! How could you hear me? I put a silencing spell on my feet!." Tonks seemed to be in a cheerful mood today.

"It was something I noticed the other night when my aura was out. Its hard to explain but in a way I could feel your changes. Your hair I mean. It seemed to feel differently than mine so to speak. I imagine its something to do with the magic of being able to change like you do." Harry recalled asking the headmaster about Tonk's hair, only to receive a small explanation that left Harry curious. Harry had not asked about feeling the changes, as he didn't fully trust the headmaster to not steal his mother's book if he caught wind of it.

"You can feel me? Whoa! How naughty!," winked Tonks, with a laugh. Harry blushed, he hadn't meant to imply that.

"Just your hair, and your… feet? I think it's what you change away from its normal appearance." Tonks grinned. Laughing, she wiggled her eyes and made her breasts slightly smaller. Harry turned beet red. "Tonks... ," he started blushing embarrassingly but didn't really know what to say.

"I'll let you keep running," she winked as she threw her invisibility cloak back on. "We will talk after we finish your run."

Harry turned and started running only to stumble as Tonks was changing… parts of her body behind him as she followed. "Do you really have to?" he whined. A small giggle was all he received in return. Harry did his best to continue running as normally as he could with the crazed metamorph following him changing her size every few seconds. It felt nice to get out and run again after three days. Harry was surprised, but he had missed running in the morning when he was stuck in his bed at the mercy of Madam Pomfrey. Another crazy witch mused Harry. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful to her, but he felt fine after a day, and highly doubted he really needed to wait another whole day before running. Still he had done as he was told and took it carefully. He had been surprised when she had reprimanded him for working out while not eating properly. Like it was his fault Harry mused. Stifling a giggle at the age of saying of "women you can't live with them, but you can't live without them either," Harry put on a burst of speed. Two days of running missed, meant he needed to push himself more today and the next few days to make up for it.

Half an hour later Harry collapsed under the tree at the nearby park. Gasping for air, Harry put his arms above his head trying to catch his breath as best he could. "You know I don't need a special magic trick to track you after a run," came the joking voice of Tonks "I can follow you with my nose. You stink!" She collapsed with a giggle beside him. "If I wasn't a metamorph I would slap you for making me run every morning."

"Not all of us have your special magic tricks," joked Harry. "Some of us need to sweat our butts off to be able to run a few miles." Harry smiled. It was nice to have at least some company over the breaks. Tonks had been a blessing in disguise, no pun intended, as it had been shaping up to be a lonely summer.

"Speaking of magic tricks, did Dumbledore tell you what Sirius did to him when he found out you had to stay here?" laughed Tonks. Without pausing she continued, "Instead of handling it like a normal person and being angry, he conjured a giant rubber duck and dropped it on Dumbledore's head. With the exception of three days ago, I don't think I've seen him more shocked in my life." Harry burst out laughing. He could just imagine the headmaster on the floor glasses crooked, hat off and speechless under a rubber duck. "Of course at that point Arthur and the twins then tried to learn the spell from Sirius, and the rest of the house was ducking rubber ducks all day. Molly had a right fit, but it was hilarious."

"You still can't say where this all is?" asked Harry somewhat hopefully.

"I can't. I wish I could but magic is what's stopping me," said Tonks apologetically. Harry grimaced. He was jealous of all the people who were getting to spend time around Sirius, but understood why he was here.

"It sucks. I get it, but it sucks." Tonks ruffled his hair, not really sure what to say. She shifted a bit leaning back against the tree. The blue sky of a perfect day seemed to be just about the only thing going right in the world.

"By the way," started Tonks, "were you aware you were doing elemental magic the other night? We learned about it in Auror Academy, but it seems a bit advanced for someone at Hogwarts. Heck we only learn about it, not how to do it. It seems to be saved for the Dumbledores of the world." It really had been quite extraordinary to see the other night. It was Tonk's first time seeing it in person, and while it was only a small amount of elemental magic, it was still impressive.

"I had no idea I was doing it. I was just mad, and scared as I thought you were there to kill me," Harry explained. "Usually when random people show up in my life they tend to try to kill me or capture me, so it's kind of a gut reaction."

"Here I was thinking you were showing off for me because you thought I was pretty," laughed Tonks with a slight punch to Harry's arm.

"No. Well I mean you are…" Harry clapped his hand over his mouth. "I'm done talking to you. All I do is make a fool of myself." Tonks howled with laughter. Harry blushed not looking at the pink haired lady rolling around on the ground next to him. He really did admire Tonks. Not in a sexual way mind you, their teasing was more friendly than sexual. What he really admired was how free she was. No one was going to stop her from doing what she wanted to do. Harry could not think of a single thing that he wanted more. Well his parents, but realistic expectations wise he just wanted to be as free and as fun loving as the metamorph beside him.

"Come on cutie," she winked, "I've got to report to my shift change and you need a shower." Grumbling as he rose, Harry and Tonks walked back to his relatives house for the start of the day.

* * *

**AN**

**I know I promised 10k but I lied. I hope one day I will get over the guilt of not hitting 10. /s**

**It was more important to me to separate heavy areas of magic theory than to hit 10k for the sake of hitting 10 k.**

**On a side note have you every wondered why some of the weird discovery in the world have been made? Like who in their right mind thought of drinking cow milk originally? Some crazy person. Who in their right mind makes a spell to create a giant rubber duck? Sirius.**


	3. A Cold Day in July

**AN: I don't own anything. I will do some upkeep and fix grammar once in a while if I see one. Enjoy~**

It had been exactly one month since Harry had learned about elemental magic, and had found he was able to magically exhaust himself using elemental magic. Every night for the last month Harry had gone to bed and made wind swirl around him until he collapsed into unconsciousness. Sometimes when he was tired he found it difficult to muster up the energy to do his nightly exercise. Often he would remember how weak he was in the graveyard, how helpless he was to stop Wormtail from killing Cedric. Then he would do his magic depletion with renewed vigor. Yes, it was extremely hard and often times, and Harry was not completely revitalized in the morning when he woke. Something about his morning jog usually revitalized him to be fair. Not all of his magic depletion was bad. One added benefit was that it seemed to stop any dreams or visions from Voldemort, which made Harry extremely happy.

Today was a special day in Harry's mind. Today was the day he was going to check and see if his magical core had grown at all. He had been intentionally ignoring his core and how it felt as he wanted to judge it over a month not a day. He imagined it like a growing plant, where you couldn't tell the change on a day to day basis but if you looked at it on a month by month basis you would see some visible change. Harry hoped that after a month's hard work there would be a noticeable change in his power level. He could always feel his core within his body, but couldn't feel its size unless he did some form of meditation, or pushed it out so he could see his aura. That said with the Statute of Secrecy, it would probably be better for him to check via meditation during the summer, or slightly check his aura when he was alone.

Looking around at his room in the early morning light, Harry stretched his arms. . Groaning in protest as he rose from his bed, he made his way to the battered and broken dresser that held his shambles he called clothes. After picking out an outfit without too many holes, Harry once again made a mental note to buy clothes this year. Whenever he left his personal hell, Harry wanted to be not only stronger, but to appear more in control. Lacing up his deteriorating trainers, he made his way out his door once again thankful the locks had not been used since his second year. Quickly making his way downstairs, as to avoid any unwanted confrontations, Harry quietly snuck out the front door. Breathing in the fresh air, Harry made his way down the front path and out onto the sidewalk. The soft light of the early morning sun rays plastered across the lawns on Privet drive seemed to draw an eerie picture . The neighborhood seemed almost too quiet, as if it was waiting on baited breath for something to happen. Shaking his head to clear his thought, Harry focused on his morning routine, and began to run.

* * *

Refreshed from his morning run and shower, Harry stepped into his room ready to test his magical core. Tossing his tattered towel on top of his trunk, he glanced out the window, at the dreary day outside. Low hanging clouds rolled quickly across the sky, threatening rain, but no releasing it. Sighing, Harry pulled out his mother's journal and reread the sections about the theory of expanding his magical core. Spreading the book out on his desk, his fingers idly flipped the pages as he skimmed. Naturally all of the sections on magical muscle had been read already, but he was just making sure he hadn't missed anything.

Excitement bubbled through Harry, as he sank onto his bed. Shifting so he wasn't on a spring, he let his breath slow. Harry felt his core in his chest near his collarbone. Momentarily he reflected on how it was weird that his core has picked that place on his body. He supposed it was better than say his right foot. Stilling his mind, Harry let his magic loose a little and felt it swirl around him. It was like laying down for the first time after a long days work. He had not realised how much work he was putting into holding his core within his body. Even without meditating Harry knew his answer. He smiled, knowing his mother was right, and had been right. Once again closing his eyes and steeling himself, Harry went of in search of his core while meditating.

Two hours later, Harry's eyes snapped open. His progress had been minimal, but there was undoubtedly progress. It seemed every time he drained his core, it did get stronger by a very small amount. Perhaps a percentage point or less. As far as he knew there was no way to mathematically measure one's core, but he would have to research that at Hogwarts. Perhaps he would have a arithmancy problem for Hermione when he got to Hogwarts. More importantly it would give him an idea of how well his mother's theory was working.

Looking at his clock, Harry had a few more hours until he was due to meet Sirius as per his request in yesterday's letter. Harry decided to pull out his old school books and see if he could compile a few notes on theory across his lessons. Thinking back on his notes of the _Avis_ spell, he had thought about intent when conjuring the birds. Perhaps that fell over into other subjects like transfiguration. Harry wondered if he could control a transfigured object to attack an enemy, or do what he wanted like Mad Eye had with Draco last term. Well it was really Crouch, and he had likely done a levitation charm after his transfiguration. Still the thought deserved some merit. Settling down, Harry started searching for magic theory in his transfiguration book.

* * *

"I say we just go," cheered Sirus from under his cloak. He was sitting on the park bench with Harry just as they had a month previously. Harry shifted uncomfortably next to him. "Just think Dumbles will be right annoyed with us, and it will be glorious." He and Sirius were currently debating whether or not to just go to Diagon Alley regardless of the headmaster's warnings.

"You and I have a different ideas about what an annoyed old man will be," said Harry as he leaned back and stared at the sky. "I mean the idea of freedom does appeal to me, but what would be the cost of the venture? We may not see eye to eye at the moment, but I still respect him, and the power he has at the moment." The day was overcast, but not threatening to rain, just dreary and bleak. A little cooler than usual, but he didn't mind the cold, in fact on most days he embraced it as it was his preference.  
"You seem weary of him. What are you getting at?" Shifting under the cloak to more closely observe his godson, Sirius once again felt a pang of guilt going through him. Harry was far too grown up for his age.  
"I don't want him to restrict my freedom anymore than he has already. For that matter, I don't want him to restrict yours either." Harry seemed to not be looking at the sky, but rather into the uncertain future. "I understand this is important to you Sirius, but I want to make sure we aren't stepping on too many toes. I seem to do that enough just by existing."

Scoffing Sirius replied, "You know that's not true Harry. If some old dude has a fascination with a teenage boy, thats an issue in his head." Harry could hear the grin on his face practically, even though he was quite invisible.

"Ugh you are abhorrent. That's positively revolting Sirius," complained Harry. "Give me a few minutes to puke up my breakfast before we continue before our conversation before your perverse mind got in the way." A sharp bark of laughter left Sirius. Settling back down on the bench and returning to observing the sky Harry continued, "I also don't want Tonks to get in trouble for allowing us to escape."

"Well it's a good thing she isn't on duty at the moment isn't it? A good chap named Mundungus Fletcher is on duty. He is probably asleep at the moment, and won't know we left." Harry imagined Sirius wagging his tail as he said this. Holding back a snort of laughter, Harry flicked his wand in his hand just playing with it.

"How will we get there, and how do we know it's safe? What will happen while we are there?" Harry had questions and concerns running through his mind. It didn't seem particularly dangerous, but at the same time, it had a few potential downsides as well as risks.

"As best I figure we will sneak back into your house and I will apparate us from there. No one will know, and we will stay under the cloak until we get into Gringotts. Perhaps we shouldn't go clothes shopping yet, but we can when we get your books later in the summer. We just need to sign a few papers and talk to them. With any luck and probably a marginal fee we can ask them about a lawyer to press for a fair trial for me." Sirius was almost mumbling to himself at the end. He hadn't really expected any resistance from Harry about this.

"I'll do it. I can see this is important to you, so it's important to me. It's time sensitive then? I don't mean to appear uninterested, I just want to make sure it's necessary." Harry's right arm was drawing small circles in the dirt as he was lost in thought. Mentally compartmentalizing and assessing risks drew his attention away from the surrounding playground creaking eerily in the wind.

"Well with all that's happening, I think it would be good to be free, and able to help the cause so to speak. It's not mandatory that it's immediate, but the way I see it the sooner I'm free the sooner I can help." Sirius seemed to fade off at the end of his thought, as if he were transfixed on an idea left unspoken.

"I see. If it means you being free, then lets do it now. Believe me I understand what it means to feel trapped." Harry stood up and plucked the cloak off the now large black dog on the park bench. "Switch back to Sirius and just follow me inside when we get to the house." Tossing the cloak back over the dog he started leisurely walking back down the lane towards Privet Drive.

"Later we will talk about that Harry. You still haven't told me about what happened here," came a bodiless voice behind Harry.

"I'm fine." Harry bristled at the mention of a talk about his time at the Dursleys. It was not a subject Harry was particularly keen on talking about. Regardless of what occurred, Harry was who he was today partially because of what happened here. Weak at the moment yes, but one day a force with which to be reckoned.

"The body may heal. The mind isn't always as resilient. Trust me I know." Harry glanced sharply behind him. Sirius was not normally so responsible. Had he not just been convincing Harry to take a trip to Diagon Alley against the headmaster's wishes? Now all of the sudden he was making deep probing questions about Harry's sanity. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sirius with this, but rather he knew if he told him the extent of his time at the Dursleys, Sirius might react rashly, or never forgive himself.

"I'm fine. Today we must set our sights on a different goal Sirius, not the pestering of my mental state." To be honest with himself, Harry knew he was not unmarred by the Dursleys, but right now was not the time to reflect or concern himself with it.

"All this reading is making you sound a bit more grown up Harry. I often wonder who is the more responsible between us." Harry and Sirius had turned onto Privet Drive and only had a few houses left until number four. The houses were all the exact same, only the numbers could differentiate the replicas.

"I don't."

There was a moment's pause as Sirius processed Harry's poke at him. "Hey! I resent that!" Sirius quickly fell into silence as they approached the doorstep of Harry's relatives. Opening up the door the two silently made their way up to Harry's room. Harry could hear a grumble of irritation at the locks on his door.

"Not now Padfoot," muttered Harry. The two made their way inside the room and shut the door. Pulling the cloak off his head Sirius appeared quite peeved.

"Why exactly are there seven locks on your door?" Sirius was livid. Harry grabbed his arm, stopping him from going back out the door and picking a fight with his relatives.

"You want to fix it don't you? Then lets do this and goto the goblins and start freeing you. The only thing we can do without raising suspicion is go to the Alley." Again Sirius had the sneaking suspicion that Harry had grown up quite a bit in the past few months. Gone was the nervous boy who shied away from people and jumped into action. In his place was a young man, deliberate, wise both from dealing with people over the course of the tournament, and his adventures over the past few years. A sense of determination, not focused on the moment at hand, but rather the future seemed to edge out of his godson's eyes.

"You are right of course. But I do think it's important we talk about this in the future. I don't want you to worry about being in trouble, it's nothing like that, but rather I want to be able to make sure you are ok. Sort of you ask me anything, and I ask you anything type deal ok?" Sirius was searching Harry's eyes for acceptance.

"Maybe. I don't really like talking about it." Harry seemed to shy away from the topic, "Anyways how are we going to do this?"

Sirius noticed the not so subtle topic change but let it go for now. "I will disguise us both, apparate and we will just walk right in and ask to speak with them in a back room. As per the Goblin treaty of 1783 they cannot turn me over to the Ministry, nor can the Ministry ask them to turn me over, so once in the backroom we will be able to drop the charms."

"So we can thank Professor Binns for this trip then yeah?" Harry smiled shyly at his light joke and took Sirius's proffered arm. "What's apparition like? Will it hurt?" Harry looked shyly at the grey haired old woman next to him. "Really? A woman?"

Sirius grinned and winked, "Well I like women Harry. And it's an interesting experience a bit like a square peg and a round hole." A look of trepidation came over Harry's face.

"Have I ever mentioned that I love magical transport," replied Harry sarcastically. Taking a deep breath, Harry nodded to Sirius. A tight squeezing sensation later, Harry was on his knees retching up is minimal breakfast. "God that's worse than the Flu system."

With a cheeky smile, which looked positively bizarre on a old womans face, Sirius winked, "You get use to it in time."

Harry had expected with the return of Voldemort that Diagon Alley would be down, depressed, and deserted. However, rising to his feet he saw that the street was bustling with activity. Witches and wizards strolled in and out of shops as if they hadn't a care in the world. As they exited the apparition point, children ran past them playing a game of tag. Leaning over to Sirius, Harry whispered, "Are they mad? There is a mass murderer on the loose …"

Sighing, which in Harry's opinion looked much more normal on an old lady, Sirius replied, "The thing is they don't believe it. The Daily Prophet, doing the smack up job it normally does, has decided you made it all up." Harry bristled momentarily but kept walking towards the bank.

"I see. I guess Skeeter did a number on my reputation last year?" Harry's mind was going a mile a minute. It appeared someone with influence over the Daily Prophet didn't want the truth out. Whether that was out of fear or something more nefarious was yet to be seen.

"You aren't upset?" inquired Sirius.

"Way I see it, best way out of this is to appear mature and not even address it. It seems my enemies are not only dark wizards. If I appear to the press as a child, this rumor will gain more ground." Harry nodded to himself as if he was agreeing with his statement. The pair had reached the historied bank of the wizarding world. Sweeping to his side, Harry opened the door for the 'old lady' he was walking with. Following him in, he noticed a pair of sentry guards eyeing the pair suspiciously. Sirius on the other hand paid the pair no mind and stalked into the grand, vaulted lobby of Gringotts bank. Harry's eyes wondered over the immaculate crystalline chandelier, to the gold studded desks, where the goblins were seated.

Sirius walked right up to the oldest looking goblin. "I wish to speak to an elder in a private room."

The goblin didn't even look up at the pair. Sneering into his parchment he replied, "And why would an elder even wish to speak to a pair of ragtag plebeians?" Harry shifted and swallowed his distaste of this creature in front of him. He was all for equal rights, but Harry didn't like rudeness as it came from any source and could be directed at anything. It was an action that could push any person, animal, being, whatever you wanted to call it, down, and that left a strong distaste in his mouth.

"_Toujours pur._" Harry now thought the feral grin on Sirius face was the most disturbing thing he had done with the old womans face today. The inner dog had come out to play and it looked wrong on a nice elderly womans face.

"Of course follow me." Harry barely heard the Goblin before he and Sirius had to almost run to catch up to him. The three stalked hurriedly down long hallways, left, right, and finally paused outside a door in a hallway of 30 doors. "Elder Gripclaw will… deal with you." The goblin open the door, said something in gobbledygook, turned and walked back towards the front.

With a reassuring smile, Harry and Sirius walked into the office. The new Goblin didn't look quite as grumpy as the last, but still eyed the pair with distrust. The look was somewhat mollified when sirius waved his and and dispelled the glamour charms on the two. "Welcome back Lord Black and Heir Potter. How can Gringotts assist you today?"

Smiling widely Sirius joyously claimed, "Gripclaw! Well met! An elder now? The world has changed much in my absence."

"Indeed it has Lord Black."

"My godson Heir Potter, Harry James," started Sirius as he grabbed my shoulders and presented my to Gripclaw. "I wish to do a magical adoption, and inquire about obtaining a Goblin solicitor to attempt to get me a trial."

Harry shifted forward and held out his hand, "A pleasure to meet you Elder Gripclaw." Harry looked up to Sirius as if to question that he was doing the right thing. Sirius nodded, as the Gripclaw clasped his hand.

"Well met young Sion. May your gold ever prosper." Gripclaw sank back down into his ridged wooden chair. Looking up at the older of the two Lords he spoke, "Might I ask why you wish to do a magical adoption? There are… drawbacks for one such as yourself." His eyes darted between the two young men, both of whom had tragic lives up to this point.

Nodding Sirius replied, "Alas, I am aware, but my time in prison has worn more on me physically than is apparent." He crossed his arms as if to hide a broken part of him.

Nodding the Gripclaw began to shuffle in one of the drawers in his desk searching for something. Turning to Harry as he looked Gripclaw asked, "And you wish to become adopted by Lord Black? Accepting gives you all of rights, duties, responsibilities, and privileges of a true heir of the house of Black. Refusing will start a wait clause in which you must wait six months before attempting to become an adoptie of the house of Black again."

Harry shifted uncomfortably under the goblin's steady gaze. Glancing up at Sirius's nod, he turned back to Gripclaw. "I Harry James Potter accept the adoption of Lord Sirius Black." Harry heard a noise come from behind the desk. It was a mixture of a snarl and a snort. It was Gripclaw… laughing?

"A bit more formal than was needed," started the goblin as Harry flushed red with embarrassment, "but we shall proceed all the same. Mr. Black three drops of blood into the center of this dish please." Harry looked at the top of the desk and a semi circle dish had appeared. It looked like a half moon with a circle on the top middle and bottom. With a few quick splashes, Sirius's blood dropped into the center circle. "Seven from you into the bottom most circle please." A knife was handed to Harry and with a quick prick of his hand, Harry was counting his drops of blood into the dish. Fascinated Harry watched his hand immediately heal after seven drops had trickled out into the dish. It had to be intent based, as it had just worked for three drops on Sirius's hand. Mentally filing away a thought to research the intent based magic of enchantments another time, Harry returned the knife to the goblin. Gripclaw swiftly grasped the knife and added only a single drop of his blood into the top chamber of the dish.

"Now as the magic builds up to start can I get two signatures on each of these documents for our copy and the ministry's copy." Two quills were procured as Harry wondered how many of these adoptions were done such that any elder knew the process by heart. After scribbling their name on both forms, Harry and Sirius took the proffered seat to begin the magical portion of the adoption. They waited in silence for a few minutes before Gripclaw spoke up. "And now Mr. Potter and Black you are officially adopter and adoptee."

"Thats it?" Harry blurted out. Again goblin laughter creeped Harry out as it echoed through the office. "There's no flash of light or pain or anything?"

"No but your head of house, me, can now sense you as part of the family," chuckled Sirius. Turning to Gripclaw he spoke, "I trust you will send me an owl when you have procured a solicitor for me?" After a swift nod from the goblin both Sirius and Harry stood and made their way out of the office. Turning back Sirius thanked the Goblin, Gripclaw, and bid him good day.

As the two walked out into the main lobby, Harry turned to Sirius. "I didn't really expect it to be that short. In my experience magic is surprisingly counter logical most of the time." Harry once again held the door open for his 'old lady' companion. He hadn't even noticed Sirius put the glamours on the two of them.

"Nothing like some good pain to bring a family together eh?" Laughing Sirius stepped out into Diagon alley. "You aren't uncorrect. Most magical ceremonies do have a price, but in this case the price is accepting the responsibilities of the family in which you are being adopted. As in all this magical there is a price and a benefit. Realistically most of the quote on quote prices we see everyday are negligible. A momentary drop in power is the most common price. For example you do a patronus charm that you are capable of, and you use your eternal power from your core. Given food and most importantly rest the magical power restores itself in your core, and the cycle is complete."

Harry shifted thoughtfully, "So in many way it's similar to mundane chemistry?"

"To be honest Harry, I have no idea how muggle chemistry works. I can tell you in this example we are talking about the cost is basically the same as if you were my son. You would have to act as if you are my son and that is pretty much it. No big deal right? I'm not here to replace your dad. I don't want some snivelling brat to get my fortune if I should die, that's all."

"I didn't think you were trying to replace Prongs," assured Harry hurriedly. "Who would get your fortune if we hadn't done this?" They were making their way back to the apparition point. Slowly walking as if they were in no rush.

Harry had to suppress a snort as the old woman next to him went to stoke her 'beard' in thought before realising he was glamoured. Chuckling Sirius replied, "Well magic would decide to a certain extent. It would judge my three cousins and their families and give it to the most magically accepting individual. It's partially based on age, so I would hazard a guess at Narcissa's boy being the recipient."

"Malfoy? Oh gods that would be foul. So there aren't wills in the wizarding world?" Harry wondered about his parents will, and if there was one. Harry doubted he would be able to get his hands on it if there was one, at least not anytime soon.

"Again to a certain extent yes, but none that are official. For the most part people do make them, but it's more a sentiment type thing than anything official." The conversation died down, as both men were lost in their own private sorrows. They continued meandering through the crowds for a few minutes before something occurred to Harry.

"Oh! I meant to ask you. Can we get me some clothes? I think it's high time the hand me down look goes away." Looking down at his clothes Harry noted his shirt today only had three holes, and his belt wrapped around him twice . Sirius's hand clasped his shoulder as he was steered into a side street that had quite a few clothing stores.

"Of course pup. I was going to mention it anyways. If you want to appear as an adult, then you best start dressing like one." Harry smiled, as it was the first time he ever had gotten to go clothes shopping not for school. Little did he know, Harry was about to discover one of his most hated activities for the rest of his life.

* * *

Harry was exhausted. He had gone to Diagon Alley with Sirius yesterday, and hadn't stop his normal routine of running and working out in the morning. After coming back from Gringotts and shopping Harry had still done his process of emptying his magical core to try to work out his 'magic' muscle. As a result he awoke this morning extremely tired, but still determined to make progress this summer. Putting on his new workout clothes and his trainers, Harry once again, as he did every morning made his way to do his morning run.

Normally Harry loved his run. Today he had to do chores prior to getting out to do his run, so his run began in the afternoon. The wind in his face seemed to refresh him every day, but today, his neighborhood seemed dark and dreary. Shaking his head Harry assumed that it was due to his being tired, more than anything else. Thinking back over his summer, Harry was once again glad he had made friends with Tonks and gone to Diagon Alley with Sirius, as he felt more alone than ever. Hermione and Ron still had not written him. He had sent a letter to each of them a few days back, but had yet to hear anything from either of the two. His mood darkening much like the weather around him Harry turned the corner into a dark underpass. His ears picked up on Tonk's shuffling behind him as she rounded the corner. As Harry enter the underpass he stopped dead. Floating on the other side was a guard of Azkaban, a dementor.

"Tonks! We got trouble. Dementor at twelve." Harry was furious with himself. He had dismissed a cold and dreary day as him being tired and walked right into a trap. Spinning around he found out why Tonks wasn't replying. She was pinned up against the wall on the other side of the underpass. Another dementor was trying to suck out her soul. Not even pausing to consider any consequences, Harry was already selecting his memory. "_Expecto Patronum_!" Prongs in all his brilliant glory charged out of his wand and viciously impaled the first dementor who was attacking Tonks, before turning back towards Harry and charging at the one closing in on him. Harry ran towards Tonks who was out cold on the pavement. Grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder, Harry took off towards his relatives house. Tonks was heavy dead weight. Still Harry pushed on, not wanting his friend to be hurt by the dementors. He knew he had probably scared them off for now, but he wanted to put as much distance between Tonks and the dementors as possible.

Harry was physically exhausted now. He had gotten Tonks two blocks from the dementors, and that wasn't anywhere close to far enough. To make matters worse, Prongs had faded and the dementors could be heading his way. He could still hear his mother's screams in his ears. He had to assume that the dementors were still close by. Only four blocks to go. Harry's mind was going wild. Where was backup? What would he do once he got to his relative's house? Focus on the next step was all he could think. Harry was half slumped as he struggled to get Tonks away from the dementors. He never saw the dementor float up behind him.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass considered herself to be a calm person. She was raised to be a proper pureblood witch, and with her Slytherin family, she had learned to observe, collect information, and react accordingly. At least that's what she told herself. If Daphne Greengrass was completely honest with herself, she would admit that sometimes she got incredibly angry, and acted rashly in those times of anger. Staring at the letter she had been handed from her father, this was one of those times where she got angry. Gringotts had sent a letter that an old family contract had been activated. Her normal demeanor of control was gone. A wild look in her eyes betrayed the fear she had at the unknown in her future. She had of course known about the possibility of a marriage contract to the the house of Black, but as she understood it, there was only a chance it would happen when she was sixteen. The fact that this letter was here meant that there was a change. "Who is this person who is the new Black heir."

Cyrus Greengrass was a good many things. A decent father, a loving husband, a shrewd businessman, but in this moment he was a defeated man. "I do not know. As per the Black family code. Sirius Black spending time in jail in excess of five years made him unable to produce a viable heir. I had though there was a chance at Lucius's son, but we wouldn't be finding out for another year and a half at the earliest. At that point should the demise of Sirius Black occur, in all likelihood Draco Malfoy would have been the next Sion of the house of Black. The fact we got this now, means some unknown entity has either gotten head of house of the Black, or has been named heir of the black fortune." He sat hands buried in his hair as he struggled to understand the implications of the letter on his desk. The normally clean and organised office looked like a war room. He had pulled books off of the numerous shelves surrounding his desk, trying to find out the identity of his daughter's future… husband. That thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

His irate daughter stared down at him in disbelief. "I thought you said it was only a small chance as, I would have to been within a single year of the hier. That's why there was a small chance of being being forced into a marriage." Daphne had always kept a calm mind in the face of trouble. Cyrus recognised his wife's intelligence within his daughter, and one more than one occasion admitted to himself the pair of abilities made for a daunting combination.

"Of course! You are correct, my brilliant darling." He looked for a book in the mess of his desk. Running his finger over a few lines as he quickly read, Cyrus had a sinking feeling in his gut. "That means that a new heir has been named by right of magical adoption. Its too soon for it to have occurred naturally. That means… Sirius Black was in Diagon Alley yesterday. That means," he looked up thickly with emotion clear in his voice, "magically, there is not a single way out…"

* * *

Harry collapsed. Tronks was sprawled out next to him. He had failed. In an odd moment of clarity he had realised he had been an idiot. He could have levitated Tonks and ran. Both dementors were circling above him and Tonks feeding on their souls. His vision began to recede as it narrowed into a tunnel. Harry knew he was about to pass out, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He had failed once again to protect a friend because he was weak. He would never be able to protect his loved ones. He was weak.

Just as Harry was about to pass out a cry from phoenix gave him a burst of energy. Fawkes was here! Harry surged up into a dueling stance. With renewed vigor Harry called up the memory of being adopted by Sirius, not happy per say, but rather a memory of being accepted completely for the first time in his life. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_" A larger stag erupted out of his wand. Prongs was back! Instead of charging this time, Prongs just stood guard over Harry and Tonks. Waving his wand, Harry levitated Tonks and with Prongs in tow. Fawkes landed on Harry's shoulder and regally held out his leg. A note from Dumbledore it seemed.

_Harry. Stay where you are. Do not surrender your wand._

"Well thanks for the advice tips," Harry muttered to himself. He would deal with that later. "Does he think I'll just give up my wand with dementors about?" Harry turned onto Privet Drive with Tonks and Prongs in tow. He had to wake up Tonks and get her some chocolate as soon as possible. As Harry opened the Dursley's front door he was ambushed.

"BOY! I will not have you performing that freakishness here!" Vernon was a truly magnificent shade of magenta at the moment.

"That spell is the only thing stopping dark creatures from coming in here and sucking your soul out . So unless you want to be a soulless husk, I'd shut the fuck up and sit down in the living room while I deal with this."

"NOW SEE HERE I WI…"

"Oh just put a sock in it lard face," yelled Tonks. Tonks was awake!

"Tonks I have chocolate in my room. I'll need you soon they are still attacking my barrier," said Harry as he dropped the levitation charm on Tonks. Her eyes widened for a moment, then nodded. Gingerly rising she made her way upstairs. "Its in my trunk in the bottom right. Please hurry, I'm starting to fade."

"Of course. I'll be back in a jiffy." Tonks tore off for Harry's bedroom. Vernon was was frozen in place. Only the shifting colors of anger in his face betrayed the face that he wasn't stunned. While he had a moment Harry tried to figure out why the dementors were here of all places. The dementors had focused on him. Harry knew in that moment he and Tonks had to get out of Privet Drive, and not by disappearing, as that would just leave his relatives to have their souls sucked out. Harry walked into his room. "Change of plans. It seems they are quite taken with us... well probably me, but they will not stop attacking my patronus's barriers. We can't leave my relatives here with no protection, so we have to make a break for it. Are you any good on a broomstick? And do you have a place we can get to easily?"

"Wotcher Harry," said Tonks with her mouth full of chocolate. "Not really. I'm capable but it's not my favorite. Plus we only have yours, but I do have a place and know shrinking charms. We can ride together, and ill shrink all your stuff and get us ready to get out of here."

"Okay just let me know and I will drop Prongs as we are leaving and hopefully they will follow us away, and we will be able to easily outrun them on a Firebolt."

"Sounds like a plan." Tonks sent a patronus off to someone about the situation presumably, and started packing Harry's things hurriedly. "Harry I need you to listen to me quickly. The Order of the Phoenix resides at number twelve Grimmauld Place. You will need to remember that when we get to the house. I have your trunk shrunk and everything but your broomstick inside of it. Do you have anything left in this room or house I need to get?" Harry shook his head, but was trembling from magical exhaustion. "Hop on back Harry. You steer I'll fight them if they catch up." Tonks threw open his window and hopped on the front of the Firebolt. Silently Harry collapsed on the back of the broom. "Ok Harry. Three, two, one, GO!" With a sigh of relief Harry dropped the drain of Prongs, and he and Tonks shot out of his bedroom window like a bat out of hell. Looking back Harry could see the dementors turn and chase them.

Laughing Harry yelled to Tonks, "They've got no shot as catching us! Where are we going?" Tonks leaned back into Harry's chest, clearly not fond of the heights, and not completely recovered from the dementors.

"Towards London." Nodding Harry pointed his broom towards the A1 and followed the lights. Glancing back he could see the dementors hopelessly chasing in the distance. A few more minutes, and they will be lost behind the pair.

* * *

Tonks and Harry landed on a dark street on the east side of London. They had followed the A1 towards London and veered off towards the Thames when they had caught sight of it. Landing after a few minutes of searching for the correct street, had led them to where there were, and Harry was quite bewildered. He could not see anything remotely wizardly about the street. Tonks seemed to notice his pause. "Think about what I told you at the Dursleys," she said weakly. She was propped up on his arm, his broom in his other hand. He thought about this Grimmauld Place, and suddenly there was an entire building in front of him.

"What the hell? Magic is so cool. Scary, but cool." Harry was in awe. He knew about magic to send out a spell, magic to transform objects and people, and magic that was raw and elemental, but he had never seen or heard of magic so powerful it could conceal an entire building. Of course that was assuming that it was a powerful magic that concealed buildings. For all he knew it could be a relatively simple form of magic that went into concealing.

"Aye, but lets get inside Harry, otherwise Dumbledore will have my head. Hell he will probably be upset already, but we made the right call." Tonks and Harry started shuffling into the house that appeared before him. With a slight push, the foyer swam into Harry's view. The house was dark and disgusting. He could feel the magic radiating off of the house, but it felt, not right, darker than normal magic. Further in there was a crash as a door banged open. Harry leapt to the left, pressed flat against the wall, throwing Tonks behind him. Remus Lupin walked out of the door, eyes searching for the person who came into the house.

Remus Lupin was not having a good day. His closest friend's son had gone missing after using magic. He had no idea what happened, but the ministry was up in arms and Dumbledore was frantic. As he searched the darkened hallway in front of him with his better than average eyesight, he barely noticed him. Standing wand out in defiance arm wrapped around what looked to be Tonks, was Harry Potter. "Harry? Oh thank god. What happened?"

Harry relaxed when he heard Remus's voice. Stepping back out into the minimal light in the hallway, Harry surveyed his once teacher. The ever present weariness along with his early greying hair made Remus look a lot more tired than a normal person. His facial scars left from the times where he had no one to transform with in his younger years also gave him a daunting look that was quite intimidating if Harry was completely honest. Most of all, however, his friend and mentor looked quite tired and unhealthy. It was four days after the full moon. Remus looked like he had just come from a battlefield, and in a way he had. Surging forward, he hugged Remus, "Moony! Dementors almost got us. You need to help Tonks." Harry was frantic now that he had found someone who could help. "I gave her chocolate, but they had us pinned down."

Remus sprung into action. Wordlessly summoning a Patronus to send for help presumably, he helped Tonks through the open door. Harry followed the pair hurriedly, and took in the new room. He barely saw a poorly lit kitchen and people swarming around Remus and Tonks before he was almost tackled by his godfather. "Sirius." Harry wrapped the closest thing he had to a father in a hug.

Taking a step back, Sirius grasped Harry on either side of his head, studying him. "Are you alright Harry? Dementors in Surrey?" He stared into Harry's eyes, reassuring himself that Harry really was here in front of him.

"Yeah," Said Harry awkwardly. He looked down between the two of them. "They almost got me Padfoot. If Fawkes hadn't come… I had given up." Sirius pulled him into a hug.

"I'm glad you made it. I don't know what I would have done. When Dumbledore gets here we can sit down and we will all talk about what happened yeah?" Harry nodded mutely as he began observing the room around him. Madam Pomfrey hustled and bustled around a protesting Tonks. The real Mad Eye, Harry supposed, was standing in a corner, his eye swirling around scanning for threats. A young woman Harry didn't know stood next to Tonks slowly conversing with her. She was eying Harry every now and then critically. Sirius awkwardly said, "The Weasleys are here, but they are all asleep as it's almost two a.m." Harry nodded mutely, and Sirius continued, "And your friend Hermione is with them. Dumbledore moved them here for protection or something."

With a little heat rising in his cheeks, Harry turned back to Sirius. "What is this place? It doesn't feel very friendly." Sirius lifted an eyebrow at the mention of being able to 'feel' the house.

"This is my lovely family's ancient home. The Black family has been based out of this lovely decorum for nearly four centuries. On a side note you can...feel it?" Sirius hadn't missed the mention of being able to feel the magic in the air around him.

"Aye, I can expand my aura a bit and feel the magic around me. I don't really know what I'm doing with it, but it seems like a cool party trick so far," said Harry trying to play it off. He really didn't want another thing to make him 'unique'.

"... You can expand your aura?" Sirius stared blankly at him.

"Well yeah. It's really not that hard. I really struggle to move while I'm holding it in though. Anytime I move, I just can't keep it contracted so to speak," confessed Harry. He ran his hand nervously through his hair. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Madam Pomphrey coming over and waving her wand at him. "Madam Pomphrey I assure you I am fine."

"You told me you were fine after you killed a sixty foot basilisk too! Didn't mention you'd been stabbed through the arm with a ten inch fang. So you will forgive me Mr. Potter if I don't believe you when you say you are fine." Sirius roared with laughter. Harry shot him a withering glare, as the healer walked around him waving her wand muttering spells.

"Cor, a basilisk? So thats what was petrifying things in my last year?" Harry hadn't know Tonks was still in Hogwarts in his second year. "Hang on a tic. You found the Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry blushed, but managed to reply, "I had some help. I can't help it. My life gets exciting every year. Well exciting isn't quite the correct word, but you know what I mean." He looked at the ground with his ears burning red.

"After I pass out, maybe tomorrow, you are going to tell me some of these adventures you had Harry." He looked questioningly at Tonks, who shrugged and continued, "What? I knew you were good, but today showed me just how much experience you have with being in danger. You weren't the same kid I was chasing after in the mornings. you were a leader in control of the situation. Think about it. Who made the call to leave Privet Drive, and managed to think through all the different exit strategies and pick the best one? Who was it that protected me after I got knocked out? We got lucky, yes, but it was quick decision making, a strong moral compass, and your actions that allowed me to be standing here alive right now." Harry looked down embarrassed.

"Don't say it like that Tonks. I just did what anyone would have done." Harry reached up and subconsciously ruffled the back of his head, as he tried to downplay what happened earlier in the day. Harry didn't like being seen as a hero. It seemed to add more pressure onto him every time someone made that comparison.

"Don't be embarrassed Harry. You did a good thing today, and for the first time after one of your adventures, you are actually ok," state Madam Pomphrey. "A bit tired, but physically healthy."

"Thank you ma'am," replied Harry politely.

"No Harry," started Tonks, as she came to hug him, "Thank you. He held Tonks close, as the day's emotions finally hit him. He could feel the wetness of tears on his shoulder, and knew Tonks was crying. Not really sure what to do he rubbed her back and did his best to not feel awkward about it. Sirius coughed uncomfortably, and Tonks turned around and said, "Piss off old man. It's been a long day." The fire roared to life and out stepped Dumbledore.

"That it has young Nymphadora. I understand you and Harry have a bit of a story to tell me?" Harry noted his eyes were twinkling as per normal. Glowering to Sirius, he nodded and followed the Headmaster and Tonks out of the room to presumably find a quiet place to talk.

* * *

Dumbledore, Harry and Tonks sat and discussed what had happened at the Dursleys for about five hours. Dumbledore had listened, eyes twinkling away at first, but they had dimmed as Harry told him about almost giving up. Tonks looked alarmed at Harry for calling out the headmaster for just assuming that everything was ok, and not checking. Harry was grateful he had sent Fawkes, yes, but he felt that it would have been more prudent, for the headmaster to have checked, instead of assuming that he and Tonks were ok.

Dumbledore for his part told them about how the ministry reacted. They had called for his expulsion, but he had gotten Harry a trial. Because Harry had used multiple spells in a row, it would be a full hearing in courtroom nine. All of Wizengamot would preside over the trial, and press would be allowed in. Tonks immediately jumped to his defence, saying that self defence was a justified cause. After Dumbledore calmed her he pointed out that was indeed the case, and together the three planned a defence for the trial in the next week.

Harry and Tonks stumbled out of the room at around seven in the morning to the smell of breakfast being cooked. As it had been yesterday afternoon since either had eaten, they rushed towards the kitchen. Harry rounded the corner leading into the kitchen and slowed down to listen to the voices coming from inside. A small smile broke out on his face. It was Ron and Hermione arguing. As he walked into the kitchen both stopped immediately, and Hermione launched herself at Harry and wrapped him into a hug. Harry grimaced and shifted awkwardly as she launched into her inquisition. "Oh my god Harry. I heard about it from Vance. Are you okay? Do you know what's going to happen? Did you talk to Dumbledore? What are you going to do? How has your summer been besides this?"

Ron stared wide eyed, "Blimey Hermione let the man breathe." Hermione blushed and backed off of Harry.

Harry blinked, and started, "I'm fine. I know what will happen. I did. That's for me to know. And pretty crappy." Ron and Hermione stared wide eyed at Harry. "I'm cross with both of you. You didn't send me letters for seven weeks. Why?"

Ron started, "Mate. Dumbledore asked us not to."

"He is your headmaster not your parent," snapped Harry. Harry grabbed two pieces of toast and stalked out the door ignoring Ron and Hermione's protests and apologies. He needed to sleep.

* * *

Harry was standing in his room. Sirius had given him his own room instead of one with Ron at his request. He hadn't wanted to wake him with nightmares, and things had been awkwards between the two of them since they had rowed about not writing earlier in the summer. A gentle knock on the door woke Harry from his thoughts. Turning to the door, he saw his godfather resting on the door frame. "Busy Harry? Can I come in?"

"Of course not. Come in." Harry gestured awkwardly to the sofa across from his bed. Sinking down onto his bed as Sirius collapsed onto the couch, he said, "So whats up?"

"Hey kiddo. There are a few things I want to talk about. Some aren't a big deal, and some might be uncomfortable, but I want to at least listen to me all the way through." Sirius settled into the couch. He crossed his left leg over his right knee as he prepared to have a serious talk.

"Of course. what's first?" asked Harry tilting his head slightly to the left in response to his godfather's nervousness. It was clear something was perturbing him. Harry figured he would give him a prod in the right direction, as it seemed important to Sirius. If it was important enough for Sirius is was important to Harry.

"I want to discuss the trial next week. While I don't think they can do anything, I think it would be wise to prepare a few things for it. First being that because of all of the negative press you have been getting, I think we should get the press to come to your trial. I know that seems counter intuitive, but if we could present you as a reasonable adult to them, or even a smart adult, a lot of the bad press will lose its sails. They are banking off you being a moody attention seeking kid, so if you take that away from them, they have lost their biggest edge."

"I can understand that. I don't particularly enjoy talking to the press, but if it wakes people up to the reality, then I will gladly do it. Do I have to talk to them?" Despite what he voiced to Sirius, Harry was extremely uncomfortable with talking to the press. He knew he was somewhat shy, and the snap of bulbs and questions really set him on edge. If there was a way to avoid at least one of those two, he would like to avoid one.

"I'm afraid so. It would be best, in my opinion at least. We can prepare a speech for the press for both outcomes, and that way there are no questions and we can control what they hear. If we give them an adult who is smart and in control the Daily Prophet won't know what to do." Sirius grinned the same grin he had with the goblin. It was something of a feral grin that would look more in place on a dog. Harry was starting to associate it with Sirius planning something devious.

"Hopefully they will start telling facts out of shock." Harry laughed and grinned right back. He didn't really understand why Sirius was so worried about this conversation. It seemed pretty tame up to this point.

"Somehow I don't think they know how. Importantly it will stick an idea in peoples head." said Sirius. He sat back and started, "Harry let me ask you something. What is the most resilient parasite in the world?"

"Some disease I'd guess. I haven't studied them though." Sirius smiled.

"An idea. Once someone processes it and swirls it around in their head and digests it, it's almost impossible to get rid of it. We will give the press an idea. An idea that you are smart and on control. They won't be able to get rid of it." Sirius was smiling wildly now. Now that Harry knew his plan in its entirety, he liked it. Sirius was quite devious when he needed to be.

"That's… genius Padfoot. Like really, its an amazing idea. Are you sure you weren't in Slytherin?"

Sirius laughed loudly, "No Harry, but my family was, and not everyone is a carbon copy of their house."

"The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," confessed Harry.

Sirius leaned forward and looked right into Harry's eyes. "And you would have been a bloody good one. I would still be proud of you no matter what house you were in."

"Thanks Padfoot." Harry's heart swelled. Here in front of him was a person who cared for him and accepted him no matter what he was. Harry had wanted a person like this in his life for so long.

Settling back into the couch Sirius started, "In any case, the second thing I wanted to talk about was was your abilities with your magical core. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable the other night. I'm sorry if I did." He had been looking down at his hands during the apology, but as he finished he looked up at Harry.

Embarrassed, Harry turned his head to the side and muttered, "It's ok Sirius, I just don't want to be different."

"Too bad." Harry did a double take. Everyone had always told him he was normal or made some type of comment about how it was going to be alright when he said that. Sirius was the first person to tell him off for saying it. It was a unique experience for Harry. "Think about who you are. No matter how hard you try, you will always be different. Hell you will be lord of two different ancient and noble houses. That alone would make you stand out in a crowd, But somehow I doubt that will be your biggest achievement."

Harry sighed, "Aye. You are right, I suppose it's time to stop hiding in the shadows. A confident man doesn't walk in the shadows does he? Are my abilities with my core weird?"

"Not really no. Like I said, everyone has a different experience with their cores, and no one journey is the same as others. I suspect you will be able to pull your core in and move with practice. If you can't, no big deal. I've never heard of people feeling magic, but I know some people can detect magic. Dumbledore is one of those people, perhaps it would be wise to ask him about it sometime. It's a very unique gift, and I suggest to try to push it and see what you can do with it. Like you said, worst comes to worst, it is a fun party trick."

"I know I shouldn't have felt different. You warned me, but I didn't listen." Harry leaned back onto the wall. His feet hung off the edge of the bed, and he felt a bit silly sitting like this, but it was comfortable in a way.

"If you were perfect, you wouldn't be Harry. Thats not a bad thing. It's a very good thing," said Sirius sagely. Harry mentally wondered how Sirius could swap from being a kid at times to this driven adult in front of him. Before diagon Alley Harry felt more mature than Sirius, but at this moment Sirius was acting very mature and quite concerned with Harry. It was comforting in a way to have Sirius look after him.

"Thanks Sirius, I think," laughed Harry.

"Next thing is really quick. I want to teach you once a week during the school year about wizarding culture. I'm not talking about the Pureblood nonsense, but more about what you can do with being a Lord and all that." Sirius sat up and started digging through his pocket.

"That sound like a good idea, but how would we do it? I don't want you sneaking into school or anything like that," said Harry doubtfully.

Pulling something out of his pocket and enlarging it, Sirius started, "I have these mirrors from when your dad and I were kids. We can talk over them." Sirius handed Harry a mirror. "If you hold both sides and call my password, in this case Padfoot, it will vibrate my mirror, and we can talk normally over them. It's sort of like muggle phones, only with the ability to see each other."

"These are so cool!" exclaimed Harry.

"It took your dad and Remus a better part of six months to get them right. I have no idea how large the range is, but it has worked from this house to Hogwarts before." Sirius shifted uncomfortably, "OK the easy part is done. Now I want to talk to you about your feelings."

Harry looked down, "I'm not sure I want to do that Sirius. I'm ok honestly."

"Harry if you understand me, our childhoods weren't that different." Harry's head snapped up and looked at Sirius incredulously. "I told everyone I was OK, but I wasn't. I didn't know until I met, well someone special, that I told someone about it and never in my life have I felt better, than after that talk. Sometimes its important to know you aren't alone."

Harry looked around the room, clearly uncomfortable with this idea. "To be honest, I've never felt so alone, as I have lately. I feel like my friends are a different age than me, and as if no one understands me. It's frustrating. I want to have my friends and be happy with them, and not have a care in the world, but I just can't. I feel lost. People look to me as if I have the answers, and like I'm some hero. You saw Tonks the other day. It's like a crippling pressure, and I don't know how much more I can take." The dam had broken and Harry spilled everything to Sirius. He didn't know how long the two sat up in that room, but what he did know is that he felt closer to his godfather. He didn't know if he felt any better or anything, but it was nice to know Sirius would listen. Harry just wistfully wished he had someone close to his age that could really understand him, both for his good parts, and the parts of him that he knew were quite scarred and flawed.

**AN: OK just a few things at the end of this chapter. I wanted to stress Harry's desire to not only become stronger, but to be more mature. I know the dementor seen was different, but lets chalk it up to AU, and the fact that leading the dementors away from his abusers builds character so to speak. I also wanted to show Sirius as both a childish prankster, and an adult, which was odd for me, but I think I managed it.**

**I imagine that a few of you will have issues with the Fidelius Charm. The way I see it anything that is a singular thing in the English language could be a secret keeper. A person, an elf, even and organisation. If I view the Order of the Phoenix as a single collective, they could be a secret keeper. If that bothers you, you can say its AU and Tonks is the secret keeper.**

**The last thing I want to talk about the the mental part of this story. I believe fairly strongly, that Harry was physically abused as a kid. If you couple that with the "adventures" he has as a young teen, its a perfect storm for PTSD. I'm not saying he will have PTSD and I'm not saying he won't, but that is the reason I'm having Sirius worry about Harry mentally.**

**Also I put two very small references in this chapter. One is from a video game and the other from a movie. 5 points to the person who figures them out.**

**As per usual, I will continue writing even if every tells me this is garbage, so it's up to you if you want to review or not. I do hope you enjoyed it however, and let me know if I have made any errors, I will endeavor to fix them.**


	4. A Two-faced Trial

**AN: I fought with this chapter for weeks trying to get it right. I'm not happy with it, so I hope its not too bad. Enjoy~**

**I almost forgot! The two references last chapter were:**

**Deus Ex: "The body may heal, but the mind is not so resilient." (good game) Blob got it right!**

**Inception: "What is the most resilient parasite? Bacteria? A virus? An intestinal worm? An idea." No one got this one. :C I've never actually watch the movie but I enjoyed the quote.**

* * *

The dawn of August saw an air of apprehension rise within the Black ancestral home. Harry's birthday party despite Sirius's best efforts remained quite subdued. Harry, Sirius and Dumbledore had talked on many occasions in the past week about the upcoming trial. It had been an interesting week for Harry, as Sirius had taken to training him for the trial. As the two of them had discussed last week, it was important for Harry to present himself as an in control adult. That meant, Harry was practicing speeches to Sirius during a portion of his free time, among other training. Today Sirius was listening to Harry deliver a speech a former minister of magic had given after the defeat of Grindelwald. Harry was becomingly increasingly frustrated at Sirius for making him read a speech that didn't matter anymore, and also for trying to mess with him as he practiced.

"Would you stop sticking your fingers in my ears?" Harry snapped.

"You never know Harry, Fudge might stick his fingers in your ears on Tuesday. Keep reading, and don't let me distract you. or I will make you do even more push ups." Sirius had stopped poking Harry's ears, and instead was upside down in his chair swinging his legs around in circles.

Harry rolled his eyes, and began again, "We sit here tonight, aged from a long war, but we are victorious." Harry did his best to put Sirius out of his mind as his robes turned a violent shade of purple. "While we were victorious please remember those who have given their lives for our goal of freedom from oppression. Let us not let their sacrifice be in vain. Take your freedom, and sing it loud on this day of victory." Harry opened his mouth to continue, but was interrupted by Sirius.

"I killed a man once." Harry stared at Sirius for a second before he saw a grin start to creep up his face. "Got you again. You need to be able to ignore me, and say what you are going to say. Only then will the press and Wizengamot not disturb you when you are speaking. Both will go for blood if they see you waver at all." Sirius had switched into lecture mode near the end of his small rant.

Harry sighed. He knew Sirius was right, of course, but it didn't make the process any more enjoyable for him. Who knew saying what you wanted to say could be so hard. Harry knew that he wouldn't get anything in his life without hard work and practice, but practicing talking seemed a bit silly to him. Still the importance was not lost on him. If Harry could present a mature reflection of himself to Wizengamot, maybe a few more people would take the threat of Voldemort seriously. Flashing a grin Harry said, "Well if I crack, they are going to get that information out of me." Harry knew Sirius was kidding, but he still wanted to use a bit of humor to hide his growing frustration.

"Well I was employed by the ministry when it happened, so I imagine they knew." Sirius was serious. He smiled a sad smile, seeing the shock on Harry's face. Harry realised he knew next to nothing about what had happened with the marauders in the four years between graduating Hogwarts and his parent's death. Privately he wondered if his father was an auror too, but kept that question to himself, as it didn't seem like the appropriate time to ask.

"You were serious?" asked Harry incredulously. Harry suddenly understood, why Sirius seemed to understand him so well. Many of the unfortunate events that Harry had lived through, Sirius had experienced something similar. Harry might call it an injustice to simply refer to Sirius as a marauder, as he had obviously experienced much in his life outside of Hogwarts.

"Of course. I always am." Harry goaned as Sirius paused. "but I was telling the truth about the guy. It was in a raid when I was working as an auror." Harry saw the flicker of a grimace pass over his face as he explained it. Harry almost smacked himself, of course Sirius would have demons about it. After all he himself had his own demons about Quirrell.

"How did you...uh deal with it I guess?" asked Harry. He clasped his hands nervously peering at Sirius as he was staring at him.

"Does this have to do with your first year?" asked Sirius sharply. Harry once again marveled at how quick his godfather was at picking up Harry's thought processes.

"Yeah. I didn't know what to do back then. I puked all night after I woke up in the hospital wing." Harry shifted his gaze towards his clasped hands, the same ones he had used to kill a man.

"No one talked to you about it back then? I'd guess not, but I'd hoped someone would have done that. To be blatantly honest Harry, nothing gets easier about it. That said the first time you kill is more traumatic than the other times." Seeing the surprise on Harry's face, he continued answering the unasked question,"Yes I've killed more than a few people. We were at war, and when they attacked with deadly force, we responded in kind."

"So it never gets easier? There's nothing I can do?" asked Harry a little down trodden.

"Time helps, but no taking a life is very difficult. If it helps you at all, I don't regret the action of killing people, as I had to, or it would have cost me my life. However, I do wish that neither side was put into that situation. That's something you should keep in mind with Quirrell. He was trying to kill you." Sirius leaned back in his chair as he explained. His striped suit seemed to fit him in this particular setting.

"I know. I don't regret killing him. I wish I had another way to stop him, but because I was put into that situation, I don't regret my actions. I just wish I didn't have to if that make any sense," said Harry with a bit of confusion in his voice. "I just want to know why it fell to me to stop him. Not that I would want someone else to bare this for me, but," continued Harry thickly, "Why did it have to be me?"

"It makes sense and all the difference. You never set out to kill Quirrell, and I never set out to kill the death eaters. They forced our actions, and that's what makes it…well, not ok, but you know what I mean. As for why it had to be you Harry, I would have taken that burden from you in a heartbeat if it was within my power." Harry only nodded solemnly. No one had ever asked him about about Quirrell, and he always felt guilty about it. Mentally it was silly, Harry knew, but he couldn't fight the nagging guilt about taking a life. Harry looked up when Sirius placed his hand on his shoulder. "Come on. I can smell Molly's cooking from up here. I think that's enough practice for now." Sirius pulled Harry up into a hug. and held him there for a moment despite Harry's slight flinch.

Together the pair made their way to the kitchen where the Weasley's were digging into lunch. Harry grabbed a couple sandwiches and a bowl of soup and slide in next to the youngest Weasley. Ginny had always been a quiet with Harry, which was what Harry wanted after his talk with Sirius. Harry was glad to spend time with his friends, but he felt strangely a bit older than they had seemed recently. In truth, he and his friends rarely talked about anything really important, but rather talked about quidditch or school. A small part of him wished he could have the types of conversations he had with Sirius with his friends as well. A bigger part of him was scared that his friends would not be able to relate to his guilt and stories. Misinterpreted, trying to start that talk with his friends might lead them to pity him, like it was a cry for help. However, Harry didn't want pity, it was more of a desire to be as close to his friends as he was with Sirius.

Ginny woke him from his thought train. "Did you have a productive morning Harry? Hermione said you and Sirius were practicing for the trial." While she was speaking she had brushed a strand of hair from her face behind her ear and smiled weakly.

"Yeah, I think so. It's a bit odd to me practicing talking and all," started Harry as he shrugged. "That said I think I'm a little calmer talking now, so it must be working in some way, I think." Harry spoke softly, maintaining eye contact as best he could before blushing ever so slightly and looking down to scope some soup into his mouth as he finished speaking.

Ginny nodded, "It sounds strange certainly, but if you think it's helping that's all that really matters." Harry nodded mutely as he munched on his sandwich. Ginny opened her mouth to continue, but seemed to change her mind and instead scoped some soup to eat. That suited Harry fine, as he once again drifted off in thought about his discussion with Sirius earlier.

Lunch continued as a subdued affair, only really getting exciting when Tonks in her eternal clumsiness sent a platter with bread and knives flying around the room as she fell while levitating them over. Ron and Hermione had told Harry and Ginny about the room they were cleaning, a spare bedroom, which apparently had doxies all over the place. Madeye had entertained Harry by slipping in and making his own food, and eyeing everyone else suspiciously. Finishing up his meal, Harry gathered his plate and deposited it into the sink. Saying his goodbyes to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, Harry made his way towards the room where he and Sirius were training for the trial. Soon Dumbledore and Sirius were going to help him make a plan for the trial, and he hoped the three of them could work out a proper path for Harry to take during the trial.

* * *

Harry woke with a start. Once again thankful that Sirius had given him his own room. The last thing Harry wanted after a nightmare was to relive it by talking to Ron about it. Sometime in his second year, Ron had suddenly started asking Harry to talk about his nightmares after they happened. Harry appreciated the gesture that Ron gave, but this wasn't really something he wanted to go over again and again. For better or worse Harry's nightmares were very personal. Sometimes he dealt with memories from Voldemort, sometimes the memories in many ways were worse than the nightmares. How do you tell your best friend that you felt a dark lord's satisfaction and joy as he tortured people like it was his own?

Sighing, Harry lit the candle next to his bed. Swinging his legs out of bed, Harry made his way to the door. Sirius had given him full access to the black Library. Harry didn't typically get much out of books, but he figured it was worth a try to learn something during the summer when he couldn't normally learn things practically. Having spent a few days in the library, Harry had already given up on learning about spells. Reading about a way to wave a wand and what to say was not a way of learning magic. Harry had instead started looking up ancient runes because of his growing interest in warding magic. After seeing Grimmauld Place pop into existence in front of him, Harry knew there were several uses for this type of magic.

After some initial research, Harry had discovered that many of these wards were based in archaic rune arrays, and some were based from charms work. It seemed the smaller wards with simpler intentions were based out of charms magic. For example if Harry wanted to make a area silent except to everyone within the area, a simple imperturbable charm would do the trick. The chaster only had to visualize the era he or she wanted silent and utter the incantation. If Harry wanted to do something specific such as keep all slytherins out of a compartment on the Hogwarts express, it would require a rune array. The array would hold the specific information of the charm while the caster focused on the area affected by the charm. It seemed to Harry that a rune array allowed the caster to focus on what spell they were doing beforehand, and transcribe it, and then only focus on the area during the magic itself. Needless to say, after discovering what runes could do, Harry had spent hours transcribing runes in order to memorise them.

Harry pulled out a quill and parchment as he got to the library and began to work. Since he had woken up due to his nightmare, he might as well get some work done. Searching the tombs, Harry pulled out _Celtic Runes, and Symbols_. Harry began copying the runes and symbols, in the flickering light of a single candle. The trick to runes, was that it was essentially another language. However, in runes, there were no filling words or symbols. A rune array was set up in multiple categories. The one on which he was working dealt with a set of truths and a set of false runes. Currently Harry had his set of runes which read, _Fallsa, Earradh_ ,which meant false and robes respectively. To be exact _Earradh_ mean robes and uniform. Now Harry was searching for the celtic words of colors. Harry planned to have a ward that rejected entry to anyone who wore a uniform of a certain color. In this case, it was green. While not the most useful ward in the world, it was a good starting project, as Harry was essentially learning more than one language.

A knock on the door woke Harry from his work. He didn't know how long he had been writing and rewriting the runes over and over again. "Runes Harry? I didn't know you knew them," said Hermione from the door.

Glancing up and smiling, Harry said, "Call it an interest in self preservation."

"You haven't been sleeping." It wasn't a question. She was simply observing a fact that was apparent to her.

"I'm fine." Hermione started to open her mouth but was cut off by Harry, "Honestly Hermione. I can exhaust myself and sleep long enough. I'm just nervous for later today." Harry wasn't lying. If he exhausted himself, Harry didn't have nightmares. Last night however, Harry had intentionally not exhausted himself incase he needed his magic today. It was the first night in over five weeks he had not used his elemental winds to exhaust himself before sleeping. His nightmares had returned with a vengeance. It seemed as if he had five weeks of nightmares had happened in a single night. Thankfully Voldemort had not visited last night.

"Just because you close your eyes, Harry, does not mean you sleep enough." Hermione was nothing if not persistent.

"Perhaps you are right Hermione. I don't sleep enough, but what would you have me do? Sometimes there is nothing to do. If you've done any reading about it which I assume you have you will know as much as I do that there is no permanent cure for nightmares. Only ways to deal with them."

"Yes but...well you could talk to me about it."

"Yeah. We will see. I talked to Sirius last week, so maybe that's the right thing to do. Just remember I'm not use to any of this...emotional stuff." Harry could not hide the embarrassment flushing across his face.

"It's not embarrassing to talk about your feelings Harry," said Hermione gently. Sensing his further discomfort, she changed gears, "Come on then Harry, Mrs. Weasley has breakfast ready. You will need it today."

Thankful for her obvious topic change, Harry nodded mutely. Standing up and stretching his stiff back, Harry wrapped an arm halfway around Hermione. "Thank you for looking out for me." Harry stared intently at her. "It's nice having someone worry about me, as weird as that sounds."

Hermione blushed, "It's not weird Harry…"Harry simply smiled and held the door open to the kitchen. Hermione huffed, and led Harry into the kitchen.

"Oi mate! How'd you sleep?" Harry almost snorted as a few crumbs flew across the table from Ron's mouth. While it might irritate Hermione, it didn't really bother Harry. For all his faults and greatest strengths, what you saw with Ron was what you got. Harry half expected Hermione to start in on Ron about talking with his mouth full, but instead, she visibly took a breath. "Hermione," Ron smiled goofily before continuing, "How did you sleep?"

"I sleep well, thank you Ronald." Hermione turned and looked at Harry expectantly.

"Oh er… I sleep fine." Ron stared at Harry blankly, before Harry continued, "Honestly, I'm fine just a bit nervous about today is all." Ron seemed unsure what to do with the information, but nodded resolutely, none the less.

Hermione cleared her throat and began, "You have a plan and I'm sure it will work Harry."

Harry gave a soft laugh. "People plan out their lives too." Harry and Hermione spun around at a clattering of dishware. Ron midway through his second plate had dropped his muffin, and was staring at Harry open mouthed.

"Blimey mate. That's dark." Harry smiled a small grimace.

"None the less, it's true." Silence followed Harry's last statement. Hermione made to hug Harry, but he dodged by sliding into a seat across from Ron, who had taken to his breakfast plate in a somewhat subdued manor. Hermione looked unsure, as she slide in next to Ron, staring at Harry across the table. Harry didn't meet her eyes, as he was staring at the table to his right. A Daily Prophet displayed the flashing title, 'Potter' swapping with 'Plotter?'. Not for the first time, Hermione once again contemplated the cost of Harry's fame. Ron for all his friendliness and affability, was not the most observant person. Ron saw the wealth and fame that Harry controlled, and lusted after it. Rarely did Ron observe the pressure that was placed on Harry everyday. Nor did he consider what Harry's fame had cost him.

Hermione's thought process was interrupted by Harry standing up and grabbing the paper. At her questioning looked, he grinned, "Call it motivation." Hermione smiled, but she knew this was waying on his mind. "I've got to go get dressed for the trial."

"Good luck Harry! I wish Ron and I could be there. You know we support you, right?" Hermione wanted to give Harry a hug, but he seemed to avoid hugs at all costs,

"Of course I know. And Hermione?" She looked up at him. Grinning ferally he continued, "I don't need luck… I have motivation." Harry brandished the newspaper as he finished, and walked out of the kitchen.

* * *

Cyrus Greengrass slumped down into his office chair. He was not sure how he felt about his days work. As his daughter, Daphne, had pointed out, the Heir of the House of Black had to be within a year of her age. He should have known it was a possibility having known a younger Sirius Black. He and James had been a terror in school. Granted he was older than the pair, and had managed to evade most of their pranks, but there was not a soul who didn't know the two were inseparable. It had come as a shock to Cyrus when Sirius had turned the Potters over to Voldemort. He was usually very good at judging people. He had thought that Sirius Black was the closest thing to a brother James Potter had. Still that cold October night when the war ended suddenly, was a stark reminder that no one could be trusted when it came to Voldemort. If he saw a weakness, he exploited it and took what he wanted.

Shaking his head to clear his tangent, Cyrus set off to find his wife and daughter. He had news to deliver and he wasn't sure how they would take it. Stepping out into his drawing room, Cyrus performed a detection charm to spot his wife and elder daughter sitting closely together in Daphne's room. Ascending the grand staircase in the foyer of the Greengrass family manor, Cyrus felt a slight apprehension for what this information meant for his family. Cyrus turned the corner and knocked on the open door of his daughter's room. "I have information from the ministry," he announced. Daphne and her mother, Eleanor, both turned around and regarded him with apprehension. "I pulled in a few favors and uncovered a document filed to the census department. A document filed by Gringotts on behalf of one Sirius Black for the adoption of a Harry James Potter."

Silence. Daphne's head fell backwards and hit her headboard with a dull thud. She swallowed thickly before she spoke. "Fuck."

Cyrus's eyebrow rose. "Indeed." Daphne's eyes were closed as she took in the information on her husband to be. Her head was back on the headboard of her bed. Cyrus barely saw the shimmer of a tear as it slid down her cheek. Daphne's shoulders began to shake as she started crying in earnest.

Eleanor moved and and hugged her daughter, "Oh honey." Nothing stopped the tears from pouring down her face.

Daphne barely moved. She hollowly spoke in between deep breaths, "I thought if I didn't know, it wouldn't happen. I know that's stupid… I just… I don't want to marry anyone because of some stupid contract!" Her normally clear face was marred by fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Eleanor moved closer and wrapped her arm around Daphne's head pulling her into her shoulder. Her fingers slide under the bundle of light red hair that was braided to the back of her head. Daphne always wore her hair with one small braid originating from behind each ear, which met behind in a loose knot. The rest of her hair was straight, and went down to her mid back. Eleanor rested Daphne's head on her shoulder so she could cry. Daphne's tears were spotting her mother's shirt with patches of wetness. "Why does it have to be me. Why does it have to be him!?" she cried through deep shuddering sobs.

Neither Cyrus nor Eleanor knew exactly what to say. Perhaps there was nothing to say. Arranged marriages had been a tradition in pureblood society many years ago. This particular contract dated back almost two hundred years, and only had a few options where it could possibly be viable. It seemed the Black's had made the contract almost impossible to come into fruition, as they wanted to lord the political power of the contract over the Greengrass family. The contract was a marriage contract upfront, but in reality it was more of a political guarantee. Because of the nature of the Black Family, the only way out of a Black contract was death and a large sum of money. While the Blacks were not a powerful family at the moment, but for many years they had been the most ruthless pureblood family around. Powerful, rich and numerous, had made a formidable combination.

Eleanor's left hand was making small circles on Daphne's back soothing her child, who it seemed just released she would likely be trapped in a loveless marriage. Daphne's sobs seemed to be dying down, but she wasn't finished crying. She was no longer sobbing so deeply she couldn't breathe, but the tears were still streaking down her face. She started, "Why does it have to be with that… moron. It's not even him, just anyone. Why me?"

"I do not know my love," said Cyrus. "I've read about him in the Prophet naturally, and it seems he has a streak of desire for fame. I'm personally more concerned with his enemies. We need to keep this quiet for a while. At least until September, so I can get better wards and make sure no one unsavory, who supported Voldemort last war, has access to us."

"I believe he is simple minded, but I do not think he seeks fame. Regardless of how much professor Snape and Draco harp on it, he seems to avoid anything related to his fame." Daphne didn't really want to defend Potter, but she prided herself on seeing the real story in between all the lies and cover ups. It was fairly clear based off of Potter in the last days of term that he has experienced something that affected him deeply. Daphne sighed, wiping away a few tears with the side of her hand, and sniffled softly.

"If that's true, and the boy is telling the truth, then we must ward our home very well. Voldemort did not care for blood purity in the last war. If he got an advantage from something he used it. I'm afraid he might use you to get to Mr. Potter." Cyrus stroked his beard as he contemplated the safety of his family. "Well that's for me to worry about."

Daphne looked up at her father. "What should I do? I feel so lost." She looked down at her hands, and snuggled into her mother comforted by her presence.

Eleanor spoke up, "I think you should see if you can tolerate him. I'm not saying you will fall in love, as that is for fairy tales and has no place in real life, but maybe you two can get along and figure out some deal."

Daphne pulled back from her mother and looked at her. "I meant for the family. I don't want to be friends with that moron." At that Daphne seemed to withdraw into herself as she once again realised the gravity of her situation.

* * *

Cornelius Fudge was a scared man, he needed Lucius Malfoy in order to stay in office. Recently he had been feeling like Lord Malfoy had been misdirecting him intentionally. The problem was no matter what he did at this point it was too late to back out now. Cornelius Fudge was trapped. Politically he had to hope that Dumbledore and Potter were liars, and would get caught. Privately he didn't believe they were, but what could he do at this point? Malfoy had him trapped in a corner with no way out.

Signing off a few missives for various departments, Cornelius could not shake the feeling of being a trapped animal. He was about to go into a trial against Dumbledore, knowing that Mr. Potter was correct and justified in using magic. After all he had discovered only a few hours after the event his very own under secretary had colluded with Lucius to send dementors after Mr. Potter to start the entire saga. One thing was stuck on his mind. No matter what Cornelius did, he feared his time in office was coming to a close.

Cornelius stacked his papers, checked his watch one last time, and picked up his briefcase. Making his way out of his office and towards the ornate elevators that would allow him to descend to floor nine, Cornelius reflected on his time in office. He had made his way through the ranks of the ministry by working hard, and his mind when he got to the top he deserved to be rewarded for his tenure of work. Lucius had provided fiscal dispensation to reward him for rising through the ranks. At first there were no strings attached, but lately each donation seemed to have a request with it. Some of the requests seemed harmless, which was why he initially went along with it. Cornelius recalled the first time he tried to refuse a request. Lucius has calmly reminded him, that he could go to Wizengamot with the knowledge that Cornelius had accepted bribes. There was no escaping it these days. Cornelius was under Lucius's control and there was little he could do about it.

As the lift arrived to take him down to level nine, a feeling of dread propped up in his stomach. In just a few hours time, he would be accusing his nation's savior on propped up charges in front of the press. The worst part was that Cornelius knew the boy had done nothing wrong, and yet because of Lucius, there was next to nothing he could do. He knew that as of this morning, the Wizarding Wireless was broadcasting the trial. While Cornelius could exert control over the paper, the wireless radio was a different story. A few years back, the Ministry has relinquished control of the wireless, as it didn't want to fund the costs of the wireless anymore. Naturally, it had continued on due to advertisements, but the fact the ministry no longer gave any funding meant he couldn't control what was said on the network.

Shaking his head, Cornelius tried to focus on what he knew he could exploit about the trial. The Potter boy had been alone, well with his relatives, but that meant nothing that could see the dementors besides the boy was present. He could work with that. If he just got the boy to admit, he had produced a patronus, and then place the seed of doubt into Wizengamot's mind that the dementors were a story, he might be able to pull this off. If young Potter was expelled, he would be able to retain his job longer. Steeling his mind, Cornelius disembarked the lift for courtroom, his mind made up.

* * *

"Wizengamot hearing for one Mr. Potter, on the second of August. Prosecutors will be Cornelius Fudge and Mafalda Hopkirk. I, Madam Amelia Bones will preside over the trial. Mr. Potter do you have a solicitor?" Harry Potter sat in a metal chair in the middle of courtroom nine, on the seventh floor of the Ministry of Magic. Rows of regal, red robes and deep blue robes made up the audience of Wizengamot in front of him in a semi circle. Harry could recognise a few faces amongst Wizengamot. Dumbledore sat in his seat as chief warlock, his arms steeped together in thought. Behind him and to the left, Harry recognised Neville's grandmother from Remus's lesson in third year. Behind Harry to the left was the friends and family seating, and behind him to the right was the press box, where many a writer and even the wizarding wireless were stationed.

"I do not Madam Bones. I will be representing myself," stated Harry calmly. This was the plan that he, Dumbledore and Sirius had come up with.

"Very well, the ministry will begin providing evidence first. Madam Hopkirk, I believe you have a statement about usage of magic on the night of July twenty fifth?" Harry could feel the audience shift forward as the facts of the trial were about to get underway. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see the beetle eyes of Rita Skeeter soaking in the atmosphere of anticipation.

Standing up, Mafalda hopkirk began, "Indeed madam Bones, Our sensors detected three spells performed in the evening of the twenty fifth. Two casts of a patronus charm and one levitation charm." Several heads swiveled and eyed Harry as the information about the spells came out. Not many wizards could cast a patronus, let alone two. Regardless of the ruling of the court, it was still considered to be quite difficult magic.

Cornelius stood up pompously, "Mister Potter do you deny casting these spells?"

"No sir, I do not." A few coughs ran out over the room, as spectators looked on with increasing interest. It was not often a defendant agreed that they had committed the crime of which they were accused.

"You admit to knowingly casting these spells aware of the statute of secrecy?" Fudge was unable to keep the joy out of his voice. This fact was noticed, not only by Harry, but Madam Bones and the press as well.

"Yes, I do."

"Mr. Potter, Do you have something to say which might explain why you cast these spells?" Amelia Bones was sensing what was actually happening in this trial by this point. She very clearly knew that it was not a simple cut and dry case, and was trying to end the politics and showmanship by both sides.

"Yes thank you Madam Bones. According to the law, a young witch or wizard is allowed to defend themselves magically should a dire situation arise." Harry paused and looked at Cornelius. He was sitting in his chair smirking, as if he had expected this. "I was exercising when I was set upon by dementors." A few gasps went out through the audience, as Harry revealed his story to the court.

Cornelius Fudge interrupted as he waved off Harry's story, "Yes I was expecting something like this. How clever Mr. Potter. Muggles can't see dementors, so you thought if you just said they were there the magic would be excused. Not today Mr. Potter. Unless you can prove that dementors were in Surrey, which they cannot have been as the Ministry has complete control over them, you story remains just that, a story." Fudge smiled widely as he played his trump card.

Harry smiled, "Yes minister. As it just so happens, I can prove the dementors existence in Surrey." Turning to Amelia Bones, Harry said, "Madam Bones a witness for the defence, one Nymphadora Emily Tonks, will be questioned about the night in question." Fudge sank back in his seat. If Harry had a witch with him, and an auror at that, things did not look well for his conviction. Harry saw Dumbledore shift forward in his seat. Harry had just revealed their defence against the charges. Harry suspected that Dumbledore wanted to see how Fudge would react with the facts facing him.

"Very well. Auror Tonks please come forward," started Amelia. Tonks walked to the center of the courtroom visibly calm and in control. "Auror Tonks, were you present with Harry Potter on the twenty fifth of July?" She took the seat on Harry's left facing the Wizengamot. Harry could see almost every person in the chamber staring directly at the young auror, as she shifted to sit more comfortably in her chair.

"Yes ma'am, I was." She looked around a bit nervously at all the people staring at her.

"Were you and Mr. Potter in the presence of dementors when Mr. Potter's spells were cast?" Madam Bones was very clearly done pressing towards the truth, and there was almost nothing the ministry could say that could stop her.

"I can confirm dementors were present, however, I was knocked out by the dementors before Mr. Potter cast a single spell. When I was knocked unconscious, a dementor was within five feet of my person, and another dementor was closing in on Mr. Potter." Amelia banged her gavel and requested silence as a few murmurs rustled over the audience.

"You are telling me that not only did Mr. Potter cast a spell in defence of himself, but he also protected you from the dementors as well?" demanded Madam Bones. She peered down her glasses at the pair of witnesses in the center of the room.

"Yes ma'am."

Cornelius stood and interrupted the crowd that had burst into quiet, excited talk, "How is it that an auror was knocked unconscious by a dementor? For that matter what were you doing in Surrey?"

Harry moved forward on his seat and rested his arm on Tonk's arm to let her know he would handle this. "Minister Fudge, my friendship with auror Tonks is not on trial. I believe the only reason auror Tonks was knocked unconscious, was because she was not looking for a dementor attack in Surrey, as she believed the dementors were under ministry control. Which really begs to question, what were two dementors doing so far from home?" Fudge sat back nervously. Harry pushed on, "Regardless, this trial is about whether or not I broke the law when I used magic. It is not a trial about auror Tonks." Harry could see Dumbledore's eyes twinkling at the planned phrase. It had been a plan for Harry to work that into the trial when he got an opportunity. Harry could tell Dumbledore was pleased with Harry selection, and approved of his timing.

"Indeed Mr. Potter," said Amelia Bones. "I have a question. The presence of the dementors explains the two patronus charges. However, we still have the issue of a levitation charm. Would you care to explain your reason for the charm?" Harry smiled briefly. Not many things escaped Madam Bones it seemed.

"Yes ma'am. I used a levitation spell to levitate auror Tonks's body while she was unconscious. I tried to get her away from the dementors without magic, but when the dementors set upon us again, I was forced to use my second patronus and the levitation spell to evade the dementors who were continually attacking us." Amelia nodded sharply, Harry having satisfied her curiosity.

"Thank you Mr. Potter. Do you have anything additional to add to your statement?"

Harry stood and swept his gaze across the members of Wizengamot. Staring at Minister Fudge, he began, "My spells were clearly used in self defence. I would only ask the court to consider the option of completely dismissing the charges on the basis of self defence. There may not even need to be a vote of not guilty or guilty. This was very clearly a misunderstanding by the Ministry, but I would very much like to maintain my clean record by having it dismissed rather than decided by verdict." Turning to Madam Bones, he smiled, "That is all ma'am. Thank you." Spinning on his heel, Harry turned and sat down on his chair in the center, waiting for Wizengamot to decide his fate. Almost everything had gone according to the plan. Harry and Sirius had asked for Dumbledore's assistance in planning for the trial, as he was quite formidable in politics as well as magic. Dumbledore as it turned out, had been near perfect with his predictions about what would happen in the trial. Given his years in politics, Harry was unsurprised that Dumbledore knew what occur.

"Well clearly this matter will need a vote of Wizengamot. All those in favor of dismissal?" Many hands shot up throughout the court to which Harry smiled. It was a clear victory. "All those in favor of conviction?" Harry stared out at the select few hands raised trying his best to memorize those who voted negative in a clear case. Dumbledore had abstained from voting and questioning, as he might have been viewed in conflict of interest of the court. He and Harry had talked about it previously, so it was no surprise to Harry.

"Mr. Potter, all charges of underage magic have been dismissed by a vote of seventy seven to twelve, with sixteen votes abstaining." Harry smiled a genuine smile, and nodded to Amelia Bones in thanks. "You are free to go, and your record has maintained its clear state. The trial is adjourned."

* * *

Harry smiled. That had been almost too easy. Walking up to Tonks and Dumbledore, they turned and proceeded out of the Wizengamot chamber towards the exit and the inevitable press. Upon opening the door he was swarmed by the press. Hiding his distaste for the swarm, Harry made his way to the designated press area. A magical construct similar to the one Lee Jordan used for the quidditch matches at Hogwarts was there to amplify his voice to the press. "I will say just a few things before I must be on my way," started Harry. "I have prepared a few words for the occasion. After that I will not answer questions at this time."

Harry cleared his voiced and moved slightly closer to the mic. "In this hour of victory, we taste only defeat. I ask why." Harry's eyes wandered over the scattered reporters, as he paused. Few seemed prepared to deal with a speech from him, which largely explained their blank stares of shock. Harry almost smiled ferally. Almost.

Licking his lips he continued, "We are defenders, guardians of mundane and magicals…." Harry paused once again as the press scrambled to pull out quills and parchment. "The roots of the world will grow deep under our careful tending. Where there is life, the wisdom of our experience and courage will saturate the soil." Harry could hug Sirius right now. The looks on the reporter's faces was priceless. Rita Skeeter was sitting in front of him, mouth ajar, glasses skewed, and quill hanging in her hand.

Harry looked to the back and continued, "Our strength is a luminous sun, towards which all intelligence blossoms, and the impervious shelter, beneath which it will prosper." Harry wanted the reporters to understand this part of the speech as it was important. It was less show, and more context to what he was actually thinking. A look of seriousness crossed Harry's face. "I stood before you accused of the sin of telling the truth. Of attempting to save us from a fate where we are forced to," Harry paused, and with a slight grimace continued, "… recede."A few flashes of camera bulbs went off.

"Voldemort stands as the greatest threat to our world. Refusing to eradicate him is a fool's gambit." Harry heard a few gasps as he spoke the dark lord's name. Grimacing at the darker portion of his speech, Harry looked across the reporters and ministry personnel who were listening in. "We have squandered months in the darkness, while he seizes our triumphs and turns them into his own." Harry almost cracked a smile as he saw minister Fudge staring at him slackjawed. He was standing next to the personnel for the wizarding wireless. "The mantle of responsibility for all things belongs to all of us… alone." Harry stood up as he neared the end of his speech. "Think of my acts as you will, but do not doubt the reality. The second war has already begun, and we are hopeless to stop it." With that Harry spun away from the press and made his way to the exit leaving behind a baffled and stunned group of reporters.

Break

Cyrus Greengrass was a confused man. He had heard that Harry Potter was a liar, and an attention seeking boy. Clearly from the trial, Harry Potter was not inclined to lie, and was reluctant to be in front of the press. It was clear that the boy didn't put up with the more ridiculous portions of the press, but he was prepared for the press, and the press was not prepared for him.

On the same hand, Daphne had said that Potter was not intelligent, careless, and often rushed headlong into danger. Whether it was Harry Potter or someone else helping him, the young man that had been presented to Wizengamot and the press was not dumb, nor was he headstrong. Cyrus felt that everything he saw while sitting on Wizengamot, and when he had watched the press conference was completely prepared. Harry it seemed was prepared for the minister, and the press. This alone told Cyrus that Harry was not unintelligent, as he could see where his enemies were coming from.

Cyrus checked his watch, and headed towards his family dinning room. Eleanor strongly believed in eating dinner as a family. Cyrus was inclined to agree, as, in his mind, a family dinner drew a family together and provided a platform for a family to discuss beliefs and issues. As he walked into the dining room, Cyrus smiled widely and said, "Hello my ladies."

Eleanor, Daphne, and Astoria all looked up and smiled. Astoria jumped up and ran over to give Cyrus a hug. "Daddy!" Cyrus smiled. Astoria was his baby girl, and he adored her.

Eleanor smiled briefly. "How was Wizengamot? We listened to the trial naturally, but how was it in person?"

Astoria jumped in, "We listened to Daphne's boyfriend!" Astoria knew she was goading Daphne and continued, "She listened all day and was so worried about him." Cyrus's eyes widened a bit. That comment was not going to go over well.

"You little shit! Sorry mom and dad you will have to deal with only having a single child from now on." Daphne tore after Astoria as she ran around the table evading her elder sister. "Sit still and I won't kill you slowly. He's not my boyfriend. I don't even like that scrawny boy."

"Girls! That's enough," said Cyrus sharply. Both girls stopped running and sat down mutely. Daphne not feeling the slightest bit guilty gave Astoria a nasty glare. Turning back to Eleanor, Cyrus continued, "It was a very enlightening day. It seems Mr. Potter has the ministry up in a deafening roar. He was very clearly prepared for today, and the ministry was not prepared to deal with anything but a schoolboy. When Mr. Potter arrived and acted maturely, the ministry's goals seemed to derail and come apart."

"I heard. The wireless has been praising how mature he seemed." Daphne seemed to sink in her chair, and grumbled. As weird as it might sound it was nice Cyrus to see her angry about the situation. He didn't want the contract to crush his daughter and change who she was. He could deal with an angry daughter. Cyrus wouldn't be able to handle a daughter who was depressed. She had every reason to be in his mind, as her life had been taken away from her, but the fact that she wasn't crushed gave him a small amount of relief in the ordeal.

"My darling, I wish there was something I could do about… this situation. My owls to Lord Black have returned unopened. Not that contacting him would do much of anything." Cyrus noticed his daughter's eye get darker with this news. It had not been his intention to upset Daphne, but it appeared he had done just that.

"Figures Potter would think he was above answering mail," came Daphne's terse reply. Cyrus raised his eyebrow at his daughter's dislike of the Black heir. Not that he could really blame her, but he was surprised she was so vocal about her dislike.

"You misunderstood me Daphne. I wrote to Sirius Black and received no reply." Daphne shifted awkwardly in her chair. Sensing his daughter was uncomfortable with the subject, he shifted gears and asked, "When is Tracy coming over to visit today?" Tracey Davis had been Daphne's sole friend for almost ten years now. Cyrus hoped that Tracy might cheer up his upset daughter with her visit.

Cyrus was happy to see his daughter's light brown eyes light up with excitement, as she replied, "She should be here just after breakfast tomorrow. She got back from her vacation today."

Astoria made her presence known again, "Can we go on a vacation Papa?"

Cyrus smiled at his youngest daughter, "Did we not visit your cousins in France last month?" Astoria bowed her head in embarrassment before he continued, "Still, perhaps next summer we could get away to do something a bit more… exotic." Astoria lifted her head hopefully at his proclamation.

Eleanor caught on and continued, "You know I hear Greece and Italy are very nice in the summer. Perhaps we could visit and learn about Greco-Roman magical history, and do a bit of touring as well." Cyrus saw Astoria roll her eyes at the history point, but saw Daphne sit up a little bit straighter when Eleanor had mentioned it. It was no secret in the Greengrass family that the eldest daughter had a strong desire to learn.

"I will look into it my ladies," Cyrus stated. Astoria's excited clapping rang out through the dining room. "However, I want you both to work on your studies tonight in return for me looking into the possibility of a trip." Cyrus didn't have to wait for the complaining moans from Astoria, and Daphne to excuse herself to go study. He had no doubt in his mind that both of his daughters were finished their schoolwork for the summer already, but a little hard work always went a long way. Smiling and taking Eleanor's hand, Cyrus led her towards his office to start planning a trip.

* * *

Harry's breath was ragged as he ran through the streets of London. His clothes were soaked from head to toe as he ran, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other. Shifting to his right, Harry darted down a side street, his feet splashing through the puddles, which were hiding a rugged cobblestone street. Harry could feel a difference in his endurance from the almost three months before, when he had started running. When had first started running, Harry guessed he had only been able to make it a mile or so before dropping out of sheer exhaustion. Today, Harry guess he had easily run three or four times that distance, and he wasn't exhausted. He was tired of course, but he was not about to fall over, like he had the first few runs of the summer. Listening behind him, Harry heard his not-so-silent follower, Tonks. Harry had developed a small friendship with the quirky auror. It seemed that going through an experience like they had at Privet Drive created a bond of friendship. It was a different friendship for Harry, as he had never had a friend that teased him so much. Tonks knew about his weird ability to feel the vibrations of magic around him, and she used that against him by changing her chest to make him as uncomfortable as possible. While someone like Mrs. Weasley might scold her for acting like that with a teenager, to Harry it was refreshing in a way. He knew Tonks wasn't serious about her flirting, but it was nice for someone to treat him like an adult for once. In a weird way that could only be done by Tonks, Harry had been reassured that at least one person thought of him as a young adult at the very least.

With a final sprint to the finish, Harry finished his morning run as he arrived back the the entrance to Sirius's ancestral home. Wordlessly Harry began stretching, so he wouldn't cramp later in the day. Today was his last morning run of the summer. He wouldn't be able to run tomorrow morning as they were leaving for Hogwarts, and Tonk's couldn't follow him as she had to prepare for duty protecting the express. Muttering his thanks to Tonks for running with him today, Harry made his way into Grimmauld Place in search of a shower.

Harry grabbed his towel off of his trunk lid, which was half packed for the school year starting tomorrow. Harry was both excited and for the first time dreading to go back to Hogwarts. Harry would dearly miss Sirius and Tonks, while he was back in school. It was the first time Harry had ever felt any sort of melancholy about the summer break ending. At the same time, he was extremely excited to be able to use magic again. Harry had been able to use small amounts of elemental magic at night in order to exhaust his magical core, but he had never been able to test the limits of elemental magic, and see if it was useful at all. It wasn't that Harry thought he hadn't worked hard this summer, it was more of a want to be able to study advanced magics and be able to perform them. Getting into shaped and starting to grow is magical core was important for the future, but Harry felt he could do more at school, when he was able to do magic.

Harry entered the bathroom and turned on the water. A nice cold shower, and he would be right as rain to start the day. Stepping into the shower, Harry let the cold water rush down over his body, wiping away the grime from his morning run. His running had toned up his stomach, building abdominal muscles where he had none previously. Running his hand through his hair, Harry relished the feeling of the cold water rushing down his body. While it had been rainy before, the exercise had made Harry uncomfortably warm, so the ice cold water clung to his skin and sung to him.

Stepping out of the shower, Harry looked at his own reflection in the mirror. Gone was the boyish face he had carried around the first few years, but Harry wasn't happy with his appearance. He was still on the wiry side, and he didn't like his eyebrows. Toweling off Harry scoffed at himself for even caring about his appearance. He had little time for his social life this year, as he wanted to become a better magician. After getting dressed, Harry gave one last glance at the mirror, before heading towards the library to finish his project ward that rejected Slytherin colors.

* * *

Elsewhere in Grimmauld Place, Ron and Hermione had arrived in the kitchen for breakfast. "Hermione?" She turned slightly towards him with an eyebrow raised. "Do you think something is wrong with Harry? I mean I'm not great at seeing things, but he has been different and more uh… withdrawn I guess."

Hermione was slightly surprised with Ron. She had guessed he wouldn't really notice Harry acting differently so quickly. "I think so. He is more withdrawn yes, but for the first time in his life, Harry opened up to someone, in Sirius. That is undoubtedly helping him, but I think the withdrawn thing comes from him growing up in a way." Hermione and Ron slid into the bench seats across from one another.

"I mean Fred and George aren't really quiet, so I don't understand why Harry is getting quiet," said Ron puzzled. Ron began piling food onto his plate, paying particular attention to the sausages.

Hermione tossed her hair back and answered, "Well not everyone grows up the same way. My guess with Harry, and please understand that feelings are hard to guess, is that he has had a difficult life so far. This last year has been more trying for him than any year previously. It's not uncommon for people to change slightly after a life and death experience."

"I can understand that, I just sort of miss hanging out with him I guess. We don't really play chess and exploding snaps anymore,"

"I think we will be incredibly lucky if the only thing that changes after seeing a dark lord come back to life is Harry being a bit more withdrawn." seeing Ron look down a bit sadly, she added, "Who knows, it may just be a phase. What's important is that we have his back if he needs us to be there."

Ron nodded. "Blimey… When did everything get so complicated…" Neither had an answer for his question. Both ate breakfast silently letting their minds worry about their best friend.

* * *

Tracey Davis stared at the redhaired beauty sitting across the bed from her. A proverbial bombshell had just been dropped on her by her best friend Daphne Greengrass. "Harry Potter, as in like boy wonder, Dumbledore's favorite, admittedly handsome green eyes, quiet, but attention seeking Gryffindor seeker?"

Daphne groaned. Tracey definitely had a way with words to make you feel uncomfortable, no matter what she said. "Yes. I have a contract with the one and only, moron of Gryffindor." Daphne's head fell into her hands, "Of all the boys in the school I get the scrawny ugly boy with a death wish." Tracey stifled a small giggle.

"Oh honey," she started trying to figure out the correct way to approach cheering her friend up. "At least its not some dude forty years older than you." Trace did a half smile and reached out and grabbed Daphne's hand, trying to sympathize with her.

"It's not really a matter of who it is, but rather that the choice was taken away from me," said Daphne snarkily not really buying Tracey's sympathy. Daphne knew her friend well, and when she wanted to be serious, she would slow down and start a sentence with some form of the word serious. Daphne knew Tracey was holding a joke within her still.

"Yeah!" yelled Tracey jumping up from the bed. "Who could have stopped you from being an old lady with a house full of cats!" Tracey stared right at Daphne, with a smile painted on her face.

Daphne stared at her friend in a small amount of shock. "Traceyyyy! That's not very supportive," she whined. She jumped up and pointed right in her best friend's face. "I will not be old with cats." Daphne paused before winking, "I prefer owls." Tracey couldn't help it. A snort escaped her as her stern friend looked down her finger at her. A smiled escaped from Daphne's stern mask, and before long the two were giggling helplessly.

Tracey took a deep breath and reached out and grabbed Daphne's shoulders. One hand each respective shoulder, she looked right into Daphne's eyes. "In all seriousness Daphne," she began. Daphne smiled as Tracey once again filled her serious talk mode requirements. A comment that starts with the word serious and a deep breath before. "I'm sorry this happened, and if there is anything I can do to help you, I want you to tell me." The two girls sank onto their respective trunks at the base of the bed. "Honestly Daph, if it means me spinning on my head to make you smile as you work through this, then that is what I will do." She finished as she hugged her best friend.

Daphne smiled and embraced her friend. "You have no idea how much that means to me Trace. That said, I'd much prefer to see Potter or one of his friends spinning on their head. Not you."

Tracy smiled, "Consider it done. Give me a bit to research the spells to make it happen." Daphne's lips curled up for the briefest of moments, before she straightened out, and clasped Tracey's hands in her own. No words were spoken, and none needed to be. Daphne knew that she and Tracey rarely were the sappy type, but in this moment she was grateful to have Tracey as a friend.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading. Now that we can go to Hogwarts, things might be a little less choppy. I felt like I was being pulled into three separate places this chapter, and thankfully it will be going back to a singular place next chapter.**

**In complete honestly, I redid this chapter about four times trying to get it right. I will probably comeback and change it again at some point.**

**There is one major reference in this chapter. If you can guess it you too can go on my points hall of fame like Blob.**

**As always if you see something that needs fixing just let me know and I'll edit it when I can. **

**Thanks for reading.**


	5. A Precarious Journey

**AN: I've been holding onto this chapter a while. I'm very nervous about posting it as it contains the departure from canon, as well as a scene that made me up the rating of the story. If you are squeamish about violence at all, I urge you to skip the scene with Lord Voldemort. I cannot stress this enough. The scene is extremely graphic and may make some readers uncomfortable. I almost didn't include it at all.**

**Aside from that, please remember I don't own anything, and I'm doing this on my own, so if you spot any mistakes let me know and I'll fix them.**

Molly Weasley's screams were considered legendary by most standards. This day in particular they were rebounding down the hallways of Grimmauld Place, sharply ringing through all residence's ears. Mrs. Weasley was currently screaming at her youngest son for not packing at all the night before, which was entirely predictable given his inability to complete a task on time to save his life. Scuffling could be heard as Ron ran around his room, hurriedly throwing his clothes and books into his school trunk as he only had a few minutes before the group left for platform nine and three quarters.

Harry glanced at his mechanical wrist watch as Molly's screaming faltered for the first time in about ten minutes. Harry was surrounded by a multitude of people waiting on Mrs. Weasley and Ron. His trunk, which he had packed the previous night, sat rigidly next to his person, with an empty owl cage perched atop. Hedwig had been released earlier this morning to fly to Hogwarts in freedom, and at her own pace. Having been caged at certains in his life, Harry hated seeing his owl caged in, so any chance he could let her take to the skies instead of riding, he easily made the decision to let her fly.

A hand came down on his shoulder, startling Harry away from his thoughts about his bird. Shifting slightly so the contact rolled off his shoulder, Harry turned towards Sirius and raised an eyebrow in question. "I'm going to miss you Harry." Sirius pulled Harry into a hug despite the flinch in the other direction. "I know it's going to be a tough year for with all the slander the Prophet did, but remember to act in control." Harry nodded silently, but gave Sirius a firm hug in return. Sirius pulled Harry back and placed a hand on each shoulder holding him at arm's length. "Remember use the mirror, call me any time, and I will answer. I'm here to help you Harry."

Harry stared at Sirius searching for a hint of deception, but found none. "Thanks Sirius. For the first time since I began Hogwarts, I really don't want to go back. Well I do, but I don't want to deal with the people." Harry paused to collect his thoughts, before tilting his head slightly and asking, "This year is going to really suck isn't it?"

With a slight smile and a mysterious wink Sirius replied, "Sometimes in life when you are expecting the worse, the best of events fall into your lap." At Harry's questioning glance, he continued, "The year your dad decided your mother was never going to go out with him was the year she decided to give him a chance. The future is a funny thing. When you expect things from it, sometimes it plays along, and sometimes it derails completely and surprises you." Sirius scratched his trimmed beard lost in his memories of better times.

"Well in all fairness, I have practice this year. This is the second year I've had a crazy man searching for me," said Harry with a smile.

Sirius stared blankly at Harry as he registered what was said. "OI!" Harry howled with laughter as Ron and Mrs. Weasley showed up.

With his eye swiveling, Mad Eye said, "Right! Move out!" Harry gave one last goodbye to Sirius who was staying in the house, as the group started towards the Ministry car that was there to pick them. In all the group of six kids, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and the four Order guards all piled into the magically enlarged car. Harry noted the car was a stick shift with no electronics, as the enlargement magic probably would have messed with any electrical systems. Harry saw the rune arrays around the doors as he settled into his spot between Ron and Hermione. A few runes he recognised, but he was unable to discern the entire string of ancient symbols. He recognised the Gaelic symbol of dusait, which meant safety with a connotation of being in a place. In a way Harry guessed 'sanctuary' was a closer translation. He was happy he was able to pick out a few of the runes which were powering the magic on the car.

Harry had finished his rune project only yesterday, and was curious to see if it worked today on the train when he could use his magic to power up the rune array he had carved into a small stone. The idea behind his ward was to prevent entry of anyone wearing a green tie. It wasn't that Harry thought it was a necessary protection per say. He just saw it as a side project for his growing interest in runes and wards. After Tonks had revealed Grimmauld Place, Harry had begun studying the powerful magic he sensed in the wards almost immediately. The power of the caster directly related to the strength of the wards. When Harry felt the oppressing power of the wards on the Black ancestral home, he was astounded. Upon finding out that Dumbledore had cast the wards, Harry marveled at the strength the elderly wizard possessed. He dwarfed Harry in power to an extreme Harry had not even imagined.

Over the summer, Harry had been expanding his core by using magic every night. He had been using what little elemental magic he discovered to exhaust himself every night. As he slept his core refilled with a slight amount of growth. Over the course of the summer Harry had grown in power by quite a bit, but he was still a candle compared to the raging inferno that was Dumbledore's magic. Dumbledore was the only wizard who could go toe to toe with Voldemort in power. Harry was not a fool. He was nothing compared to Voldemort in the Graveyard. The only reason he got away was luck and the wand connection.

Hermione shifting in her seat drew his attention away from thoughts of magical growth. Harry silently observed his friends. They were nowhere close the the power he sensed in the adults around him. Fred and george were the exact same in strength, and only stronger than Hermione. Unbidden a memory arouse in Harry's mind from his first year. Hermione stood in front of Harry before he went to face Quirrell and told him that books and being clever didn't make a great wizard. Sadly she was right in some regards. She was easily the smartest person in the car, but had the smallest core there. Ron for all his faults was stronger than his twin brothers in terms of raw magical power. Ginny surprised Harry. Of all his friends he did not expect her to be the strongest. She was a powerhouse compared to her siblings, easily doubling Ron's core in strength. Yes, Harry was stronger, but he had been strengthening his core all summer. Shifting his senses to the adults Harry was surprised to find that even Mrs. Weasley was stronger that all of the kids, himself included. Harry made a mental note the research or ask Dumbledore why adults had such a larger core than the kids.

"Something on your mind Harry?" asked Hermione.

"No I was just feeling the magic of the car." He and Hermione had discussed his newfound ability to feel the magic around him just a couple of weeks back. She naturally had jumped into the library trying to find as much information about the ability to feel magic as possible. "Its interesting. The magic is radiating off the runes on the doors in circles around us. The magic isn't an enlargement charm. The runes make the magic enlarging the compartment of the car. It's not what I would have guessed initially."

"You can tell what the runes on the doors are? I don't recognise them, but there are languages we haven't studied yet in runes." Hermione trailed off as she ran her hand over the engraving on the side of the frame.

"I only recognise a few. I pretty much only know a few of the Gaelic runes." Gesturing towards a rune that looked like a flared cross with an accent. "This one means growth, it's the rune Cinneas. It's an abiotic version of growth, as in an increase." Hermione looked over at Harry in curiousity.

Ginny cut in, "What do you mean abiotic?" Harry saw her eyes spark as she drew in the information being presented to her.

Hermione answered for Harry, "He means that rather than being biological, it's physical. In other words, you wouldn't describe a plant growing that way, but an increase in space like this would be a physical growth."

Harry nodded, "Exactly, a biotic growth in gaelic would to my knowledge be ùr-fhàs. Which would be closer to sprout or blossom. That said, I only know a few runes, so there is probably a better way to describe it," said Harry down playing his knowledge of runes.

Hermione opened her mouth to start in again, but Ron cut across her, "We aren't at school yet. Please don't make me sick. It's still summer mate. Don't do this to me." Harry chuckled lightly as Hermione sent Ron a glare.

Ron and Ginny launched into a debate on the superiority of the Harpies over the Cannons. Privately Harry agreed with Ginny that the Harpies were a superior team, but he wouldn't say so aloud in front of Ron. His legendary fandom of the Cannons was a worship like nothing Harry had ever seen before. His entire room being orange at the Burrow was just a small part of what the Cannons meant to him. Privately Harry didn't follow the professional league, as the part of quidditch that appealed to him was solely the flying aspect. There was nothing quite like the feeling of wind blowing in his face when he was up on his broom stick. Harry had not been surprised when his mediation this summer linked the feeling of flying to the feeling of his magic. Every person's magic in the car felt different to Harry, but he didn't really know what he was looking at when it came to observing a person's magic. The only real thing he could ascertain was the power of the individual.

The car shuttered and rumbled to a stop outside the station. The group acted according to Mad Eye's ridiculous plan, and two Order members jumped out to secure a perimeter, before anyone else could disembark the enlarged car. Harry stepped out of the car behind Hermione, and scanned the area. As per usual, nothing was wrong with the station, and Mad Eye had over reacted. As the group made its way to the hidden platform, Harry searched for the door with his magic. Instantly he regretted his decision. There was so much magic pouring out of the hidden entrance, Harry was overwhelmed. Gasping slightly, at his brand new searing headache, he stumbled back and bumped into Ginny. "Are you alright Harry?" she asked her voice quiet, but filled with concern.

"Yeah… I'm fine," started Harry as he bent over to collect himself. "Just a bit of a headache. I didn't expect there to be so much magic here. Got a bit of a sensory overload when I reached out for the entrance with my magic." He pulled his core as far within himself as far as he could. It was a bit weird to walk around with it pulled in farther than normal. A bit like flexing his stomach muscle as he walked. At the start of the summer Harry couldn't even move an inch with it pulled in, but after months of hard work, he could walk around. Harry didn't think he could run, much less duel with it pulled in yet, but he could certainly handle walking to the Hogwarts Express.

With his headache receding, Harry followed Hermione as she dashed into the hidden platform. As the red of the steam engine came into view behind a semi-transparent curtain of steam, Harry let out a sigh of relief that his headache didn't reappear in such a highly magical environment even when he had his magic pulled in as far as he could maintain. Parents and children where both saying goodbye up and down the platform. Mad Eye gave his order for the students to get onto the train. With a few rushed hugs goodbye, and a death clasp from Mrs. Weasley, Harry set off towards the scarlet train.

"Harry, mate, Hermione and I need to go up to the prefects cabin." Ron reached out and grasped Harry's shoulder as if to placate him.

"Oh… right," said Harry shortly. He had forgotten Ron and Hermione had been named prefects. "I'll catch you two after the meeting. I'll find somewhere near the end of the train." With a half smile, Harry headed off towards the train with his trunk in tow. As he approached the door, he saw Ginny dragging her trunk towards him. "Want to find a cabin Ginny? The perfect prefects among us, have to go to the front cabin."

With a slight grin at Harry's dig towards his friends Ginny replied, "Sure as long as you don't mind sitting with my friend Luna."

"Of course not. Besides I brought protection," Harry finished with a smile. He pulled his summer runes project out of his pocket. Flashing a grin and a gesture for Ginny to lead the way, he pocketed his project, in favor of his wand. With a slight wave and a mutter both his trunk and Ginny's became lighter. She flashed a smile over her shoulder as she led the way down the train in search of her friend Luna. As the duo reached the correct cabin, Harry looked through the window and got his first look at Ginny's friend. She had on purple glasses and was reading a magazine upside down. Perhaps the oddest thing about her, was the fact she had rather large radishes attached to her ears.

"Hello Ginny! Have the nargles bothered you much this summer?" Luna had rather large eyes that seemed to peer at Ginny with a burning curiosity, like the question she asked was the most important thing to her at that moment.

Ginny flashed a bright smile before exclaiming, "Luna! No they were perfectly fine this summer. This is my friend Harry." Harry was a bit lost, but assumed it was a term between friends he wasn't suppose to know.

"Hello Harry Potter. I know who you are. People say not very nice things about you sometimes."

Luna had turned directly to Harry, who shifted uncomfortably before replying, "Yeah, well at least that's the worst that they do." Harry held out his hand to Luna, who pointedly ignored it.

"I've always believed that you should never attribute something to malice, which can be adequately explained by stupidity… or marglublobs." With that Luna went back to her magazine signaling the end of the topic.

"I'll keep that in mind," said Harry as he stowed both his and Ginny's trunks in the rack above the seats. After the trunks were properly secured, Harry pulled out his small ward stone. He had worked hard the past few weeks of the summer on this project. A few runes directed a ward to allow only those people who didn't have the house of Slytherin robes on into the compartment. It was nothing spectacular, but given his recent interest in the subject, Harry was itching to try out his first ward. In order for the ward to work, Harry had to visualize the compartment in its entirety, and use the incantation Domus Prego. It was a standard ward incantation that used the casters focus for the instructions of the area, and the runes on the wardstone on which it was cast to dictate what the ward became. Harry looked around the compartment trying to visually space out the entire area.

Just as he raised his wand to cast the spell Luna said, "What if the Slytherins aren't wearing clothes?"

Harry's eye's bulged a bit. Ginny asked, "You can read the runes?"

"Well obviously, I just asked a question about them." There was no malice in Luna's voice. She was just curious about why Harry picked the runes he did.

"I reckon that if they don't have clothes on, they will have bigger issues than getting the door," offered Harry. This strange girl's thought process was very unique. Harry's first reaction and thought about how to get around the ward was to simply charm the color of the robes, but apparently that was unimportant or had not occurred to Luna. Clearing his thoughts as the train whistle blew and the train started forward, Harry once again visualized the compartment. "Domus Prego," he intoned. Blinking, Harry saw the runestone flash light blue, "Did it work?"

"Yes." Luna didn't look up from her magazine. "To what extent I do not know."

Leaning back in his seat, Harry rubbed his temples as he said, "Well I guess we will have to just wait and see." Luna and Ginny started up a conversation about an article in the Quibbler, a magazine that Luna liked apparently. Harry pulled out his book on runic symbols of the Holy Roman Empire. The Romans runes, compared the Gaelic ones he had memorised, were very rigid, and in Harry's mind lacked the subtle grace of the Gaelic runes. However, the Roman runes were much better documented, and even had systems in place to learn how to place them together. Due to this system, it was much easier to teach Roman runes than it was to teach another set.

Harry looked up as the cabin door slide open, and Ron and Hermione bustled into the cramped cabin. After a few brief greetings and hellos, the group returned to their seats. Harry spoke upon sitting, "Let me guess, Malfoy is one." Ron nodded.

"He didn't get off to a good start though did he?" asked Ron rhetorically looking to Hermione. As she smiled, he looked back to Harry and continued, "He walked in like he owned the cabin, like he normally does mind you, and got into a verbal fight with the head girl. Landed him a couple of days of detention from her, and a threat to stick his wand… well, somewhere not so nice…" Ron finished with a half chuckle, but was fairly disturbed by whatever threat was levied at the Malfoy Heir.

"Well I don't really approve of how she handled it, but it was certainly effective," began Hermione. "He was quiet for the rest of the meeting, and immediately went out on his patrol after it was over without a word."

"Well we all know Malfoy is all bark, and very little bite. She probably embarrassed him, which is a decent way to handle him. What's her name by the way?" Harry scratched his chin as he spoke.

"Wanna shake her hand mate? I almost did after the meeting." Ron flashed a grin, before continuing, "Sarah McMillian. She's in Ravenclaw."

Hermione shifted forward as she spoke, "I hear she is quite good at Charms and Defence, and doesn't take much lip from anyone, as she is one of the better duelist in the school. Not that I'm advocating violence as a trait for a head girl of course," she added quickly.

Harry only smiled softly at Hermione's adherence to rules. Of course he was opposed to violence, especially out of the blue, but there were times that it was necessary. Not every scenario should end in violence, but when one was dealing with Draco Malfoy, Harry could hardly blame her. A loud grumble of Harry's stomach reminded him that he had not eaten since the boarded the train, and the hour for lunch had long past. When Ron's stomach followed Harry's, the group let out a laugh that relieved the tension and awkwardness from Harry's.

Excusing himself, Harry set off in search of the food trolley to appease his rumbling stomach. Perhaps a few candies would help the steadily improving friendship with Ron. Over the summer, Harry had been quite irritated with the redhead, but as they spent more time together, his irritation started to fade. Naturally, Harry was still slightly bitter about Ron not believing him about the goblet last year, but it appeared Ron was making strides towards maturity this year.

Harry kept his magic completely pulled within himself, as he didn't want to have his headache return. Striding down the hallway with purpose sliding past a few giggling third years, he approached the food trolley. Harry saw the line was line up against the outside wall to allow people to pass. Sliding into a spot easily, he began to observe the students around him. As he swept his gaze across a few of the younger years in front of him, Harry hid his irritation at the staring children.

"OI Potter!" Harry turned and reacted. A feminine hand was flying out to slap him. Harry spun grabbed the girl's wrist and deflected it away from his face. In doing so he trapped the girl against the wall, her left arm pulled across her body held against the wall. He had her pinned in the few seconds since he reacted. As his wand slipped out he immobilized her, the look of shock stuck on her now frozen face.

The girl, wearing Slytherin robes, was actually quite pretty if Harry was honest with himself. She was vaguely familiar, but Harry couldn't remember her name. Her wide eyes, frozen in shock, had steel grey irises which Harry had never seen before. Her light red hair was completely straight with the exception of a small braid behind each ear that met in the back of her head Harry presumed. Beside his mystery assailant was another Slytherin girl with blonde hair. Her eyes were wide open with shocked but instead of the frozen surprise that marred the face of the redhead, her mouth opened and closed ever so slightly. In her eyes Harry detected a hint of fear and amusement behind the blatant surprise.

Harry spun back around and stalked back to his cabin, his original reason for venturing out for food long forgotten. As he departed he waved his wand and released the charm on the red head girl. Harry was slightly surprised that the Slytherins were attacking him. He had always held the belief that only a few Slytherins gave the house a bad name, Malfoy being the main name that popped into his mind. The girl who tried to slap him intrigued him, not just because of her grey eyes, which he had never seen eyes that color before, but because he saw anger simmering in her. He could hear it in her voice when she originally shouted his name. To his knowledge, he had never interacted with the girl before, so he was confused with her anger being directed at him. Perhaps Hermione would understand.

As Harry entered his compartment, and flopped into his seat across from Hermione. "Do you know a Slytherin with red hair and grey eyes? She has a friend with blonde hair. They are both in our year," asked Harry as he looked to his best female friend.

"Why? Do you have a crush?" asked Hermione with a small about of teasing in her voice as she looked up at Harry from her book.

"Hardly," said Harry dryly. "She just tried to slap me out of the blue. I just can't remember her name."

"Hmmm. Well she is Daphne Greengrass, and her friend is Tracey Davis." Hermione opened her mouth but then closed it with a puzzled look.

"Did she just attack you out of the blue?" asked Ron looking up from his brutal chess game. Ginny, it appeared, was about to become yet another victim of the genius that was Ron's chess ability.

"Yeah… It was really weird," started Harry. "She was angry with me. I could see the anger in the eyes, and she sounded quite upset with me. I may be a bloke, but even I can spot an angry witch when I see one. The thing is, to my knowledge, I've never spoken a word to her before in my life. I just don't know what I could have done to upset her."

"Maybe you did something that made her angry," suggested Ginny.

"Perhaps she is angry for what you didn't do," came the soft voice of Luna. Harry had the distinct reminder that this younger girl seemed to think in a different way than most people. He had the feeling she was a type of person you could sit with for an hour, not say anything at all, and walk away feeling like a deep conversation had taken place. She had made him stop and think of things from a completely different perspective twice in just a few hours.

"Regardless of why, I'm surprised she attacked you," began Hermione. "I take Runes with her and we partner pretty regularly. She is smart and doesn't say much beyond what is required in class. I'm rather surprised you managed to get a rise out of her." At Harry's confused look she continued, "Well like I just said she is really quiet. From the few times we have paired up, I had the impression she was exceedingly private, much like you are. I know her friend Tracey rather well. We have arithmancy together, and we pair together every class. That girl is quite outgoing, but has a good head on her shoulders. I'm surprised she was ok with Daphne attacking you."

"I could tell her friend was partly amused by the attempted slap, but she was also scared of me. I don't think I'm that scary am I?"

"Harry you are about as scary as a teddy bear, and I mean that in the nicest way possible," said Ginny. Luna giggled and whispered something in Ginny's ear which Harry couldn't hear. Ginny flushed red, but flashed a smile at Luna.

Glancing up at Ron, Harry began, "Well needless to say, trying to slap me was not beneficial to her short term health. I immobilized her and stalked back here." Harry leaned back in his seat with a grin on his face. Ron laughed and took Ginny's rook much to her chagrin.

"Harry you really shouldn't resort to violence," began Hermione slowly before being interrupted by Ron.

"Well the snake attacked him first didn't she? If you ask me you should lecture her about violence," said Ron. Ginny let out a small laugh as Hermione huffed and went back to her book. After a few minutes pause Ron and Ginny returned to their chess game. The gentle rocking of the train soon caused Harry's eyelids to droop, as he fell into a light sleep.

* * *

Chaos. Voldemort reveled in it. Fear threatened the very backbone of society and produced chaos. There were quicker and more effective ways of killing someone than an Avada Kedavra,but nothing inspired terror like the lascivious green he loved so very much. There were ways to kill which horrified and sickened bystanders, but nothing compared to the sheer abruptness of the killing curse. "My followers!" He paused and licked his lips in excitement. "Today we begin our war. Today we kill and maim because we can! Go forth! To Diagon Alley!" Voldemort shouted with joy. Today the Aurors would have most forces guarding the Hogwarts Express, so naturally, he would attack where they were not.

With a twirl he appeared in the Alley where he first bought his wand and school supplies. Elated, he slashed his wand as the young man next to him exploded into a fine mist of red, his entrails evaporating from the force of the explosion. The fine mist draped itself across his face forming droplets of blood running down his chin. Voldemort licked up the coppery taste on his lips. How he loved this taste and smell. The screams were music to his ears. Their terror, his lust. Another helpless soul's body started melting, a victim of an overpowered blood boiling curse. Shops around him exploded as he howled with laughter. Shear power radiated off of his body. With a burst of elemental fire magic, a flaming serpent rampaged it's way through the shops on his left. A terrified scream roused his interest as he looked into a burning shop.

Perfect. A young family. How he loved these. So many choices. Laughing Voldemort sent an imperio towards the father. Cut your son's throat and show your wife. Voldemort would leave this man alive yes. Only after he brutally killed his own family would he end the imperius curse. Voldemort smiled patiently as the man pulled his son up by his hair. The child was screaming facing his own mother. Suddenly his screams were cut short, as the boy's throat burst into blood as his vocal chords were severed. He could almost taste the fear in the air. Kill your daughter and wife by impaling them with metal. Voldemort watched with amazement at his own brutality as the man conjured a metal spike and impaled his daughter and wife in quick succession. Thier screams of betrayal and pain could not sound more delicious. Ending the curse Voldemort prepared for the real show when the man would realise he had killed his own family, "Look upon your deeds!" laughed Voldemort as he spun and disappeared back to his base leaving behind a man with the dying, bloody bodies of his family.

* * *

Harry woke from his nap, and was immediately sick all over the cabin floor. He felt the joy Voldemort had while he slaughtered those people as if it were his own.

Hermione jumped up and yelled, "Harry!"

Weakly waving his wand, Harry cleared his sick off the floor, and muttered, "Sorry I had a bad dream." Ginny and Hermione just stared at Harry in shock.

Luna merely said, "I'm sorry you had a bad dream. I get those too sometimes," and went back to reading the Quibbler.

Ron leaned forward and asked incredulously, "A bad dream? Mate that's not just a bad dream."

Harry leaned back and closed his eye briefly, "Yeah it was just a dream. I'm sorry." How was he supposed to tell his friends he had just felt felt Voldemort's excitement as he murdered his way through Diagon Alley. Hermione continued to pester him repeatedly asking him about his dream and how he was feeling. Harry didn't really feel like answering, so he only replied with some variation of "I'm fine". After a few minutes of dodging questions, Harry excused himself to clean himself off in the loo.

Harry made his way to the train cabin which held the men's loo. Sliding into the cramped train loo, he grasped the tiny counter holding it with all his strength. Tears slid down his face, as the nausea of what he had witnessed and felt caught up with him again. Collapsing onto the closed toilet seat, Harry grasped his head with both hands. Tears streamed down his face, as guilt tore through him. He didn't know how long he cried into his hands, nor did he really care.

Harry slid his hands off his face and looked into the cramped mirror in the loo compartment. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Tracts from his tears marred his otherwise clean face. With a few small waves of his wand, Harry cleared away any smell of his sick, and threw a few glamour charms on his face. His reflection in the mirror rippled briefly, before a healthier version of his face and eyes appeared before him. Gone were his bloodshot eyes and his slightly gaunt expression, replaced by a normal face.

Gathering himself, Harry stepped out of the loo and headed back towards the compartment he had snagged with his friends not noticing the calculating look from a now quiet and small Slytherin fifth year. Silently he hoped Hermione wouldn't prod too much to get him to talk about his dream. It wasn't that Harry particularly enjoy keeping his friends out of the loop, but he just couldn't bring himself to subject them to the sight and sounds he had just experienced.

Harry felt completely and hopelessly out of his league. The sheer power that Voldemort had was horrifying dwarfing even Dumbledore's large core. While Harry still wasn't sure what size of a core meant in terms of ability to produce magic, he knew that a large core was certainly a necessity to perform the kind of magic he had come to see from Dumbledore and Voldemort. He didn't know if the size of the core correlated to one's ability to perform magic with ease, or if it really was as simple as the stronger core did more powerful magic. It seemed he needed to ask Dumbledore a few questions when he got to school. Magic theory was not Harry's strongest subject, but it seemed to be coming up with his delving into deeper magic. Hopefully the headmaster would be able to point him in the right direction in regards to his questions. Harry knew he would have to go talk the old wizard when he got to the school regarding his dream.

* * *

Seven compartments closer to the front of the train, Daphne sank into her seat across from Tracey. "Potter cried."

Tracey who had been reading her arithmancy book looked up suddenly, "What do you mean?"

"I was on my way to the loo, when he walked out in front of me. I didn't say anything because of what happened earlier, but Tracey, he looked really bad." Daphne paused to gather her thoughts, "Whatever it was, I know he isn't handling it well. He forgot silencing charms when he went into the loo. I threw up a few times and after I heard him start crying."

"That's crazy. What do you think it was?" asked Tracey.

"I'm not sure I want to know. All I know is he was in there for a long time, and he walked out like he was perfectly fine. It seems he was hiding this from his friends."

"It makes you wonder doesn't it?" trailed of Tracey thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" asked Daphne hesitantly. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like the revelation Tracey was about to give to her. In her short life, Daphne hadn't met a single person with as much social insight as the blonde across the compartment.

"Well, think back at our time here at school. Well not here, this is the train, but you know what I mean." Tracey tucked a spare strand of her hair behind her ear, as she leaned forwards towards her best friend. "Have you even seen a sign of weakness from Potter aside from what you just saw?" Daphne slowly shook her head negative. "He hasn't had the easiest time here."

"If you are talking about the rumors, I don't believe the rumors," stated Daphne with a hint of steel in her voice. "There is no way that an eleven year old kid could beat a fully grown adult."

"I'm talking about us the students. Think back to our second year. How many of us thought he was the Heir of Slytherin? How would most twelve year olds take everyone thinking they were trying to kill them? I'm not saying he's a saint or anything, but just think about what he has dealt with, and it's not all that surprising he is struggling to handle it all." Tracey was tentative, as if she was afraid of how Daphne would take this information.

Frowning, Daphne asked, "So you think it has to do with the ministry trying to push him down?" Tracey gave a brief nod, so she continued, "I don't know Tracey, it didn't seem like he was upset with the way he was being treated. It was more like he was about to be sick, he was so upset." Daphne didn't know what had upset the Potter heir, but she did know that whatever had happened, she was not suppose to be privy to the information that Harry was upset. He was very clearly going out of his way to hide this from his friends, but had forgotten to put up a silencing charm. Normally, in Slytherin, information such as this was pure gold. However, Daphne doubted anyone would really believe it if she tried to use this information. Rather she was curious why Potter was acting the way he was.

"Sounds like something serious. Perhaps, knowing what goes around with Potter, you should just let this drop," said Tracey. "I've never seen anything normal happen near that boy, and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Well it's a bit late for me to not get tied to him," stated Daphne grumpily. "Besides, I'm just curious as to what it was that caused him to be like… that. It's the first time I've seen another side to him other than being an average student who is good on a broom. None of us have seen him cry, or really be upset other than irritation at Draco. At the same time we all hear the stories about him dueling the Dark Lord, and none of us have seen that side of him either. As weird as it seems, seeing this side of Potter makes it easier to believe he has done the stuff we hear about in rumors."

"So you believe he killed a teacher with his bare hands, and the teacher was the Dark Lord?" giggled Tracey.

"No Tracey, I'm not stupid. Just like in all things, the truth lies somewhere between the rumors and not happening. Rarely do rumors start over nothing, the trick is finding out what they do start over. Honestly, Potter was probably just in the hospital wing when Dumbledore dealt with Quirrell." Still, Daphne couldn't shake the feeling that the rumors surrounding her betrothed were substantiated by some truth, and it might not be as small as what she had voiced to Tracey.

* * *

Harry Potter moved close to the door of the train as the whistle blew. On the train he had no way of contacting Dumbledore about his dream, but now that he due to arrive at Hogwarts, he wanted to speak with the aged leader to see if there was anything he could've done. He doubted he didn't know of the attack already, but there was still ideas and theories that Harry had to ask about. Inching his way through the line, he jumped out in front of the crowd to get onto the first carriage that went up to the castle. Harry hopped into the cabin, and slid into the farthest seat on the right side. His hand slipped into his pocket, and pulled out his ward stone. No slytherins had come to visit his cabin on the train, but he didn't know if that was due to his ward, or if it meant no one had come to tried.

As the cart started forward, his mind slipped to his encounter with the pretty slytherin at the food cart. She had acted quite crazy, but something nagging on his mind drew his thoughts to her well after the event. It was not the first time he had been attacked by a slytherin, nor would it be the last. He supposed it was the fact she had been scared when he had pinned her to wall. Harry didn't really want to be scary to a fellow student. He felt a bit guilty for scaring her, but not enough to vocalise it, or go apologise. The girl was use to student rules, where the worst physical violence led to was a detention. In Harry's world, physical violence was equated to an attack, so he reacted accordingly. It wasn't that he had wanted to scare the girl, but rather he had reacted before he thought about what he did. Perhaps she would think before attacking him again, and he wouldn't have to deal with this ever again.

A gentle bump as the carriage stopped woke Harry from his thoughts. Making his way out of the cabin, he stepped off the carriage, and took toward the front steps of the castle. In past years he had admired the steeples and truncated fortress walls, but he had to get to Dumbledore, so he skipped past the gaggle of giggling third years, who had ridden in his cabin to Hogwarts. As he entered the entrance hall he spotted the aged man walking towards the Great Hall. "Professor! May we speak for a moment?" half yelled Harry, as he sped towards the man.

"Mr. Potter. Of course," smiled the headmaster. The smile never quite reached his eyes, but he put up the facade none the less.

Harry noticed the half smile, "I take it you've heard about Diagon Alley then?"

The half smile vanished completely. "Indeed. The question here in not if I have heard about it. Rather, the question is how you did…" he trailed off staring at the young man in front of him.

"Exactly. Can I speak to you in your office after the Feast? It concerns me greatly."

"I fear we must both attend the feast and put up a charade for now, afterwards we shall talk. But first I must be the barer of bad news to many tonight."

"Thank you Professor," Harry said as he walked towards the hall. Spinning around Harry said, "And Professor?" Dumbledore glanced back his way. "Good luck sir, I imagine you will need it."

A real smile flashed across the older man's face, "Thank you my boy." The pair made their way to their respective spots in the Great Hall. Students came into the hall in streams, as more and more carriages dropped them off at the steps. Some mingled and chatted idly, not aware of the news they were about to receive. Harry glanced out over the mass of students, and for the first time in his years at Hogwarts, felt alone. He still had his friends of course, but he tried to keep them separated from the atrocities he witnessed. Whenever he dreamed since the third task, it was always the same two things. Nightmares from what he had been through, or visions from a Dark Lord, where he felt the feelings of the mad man. Even if he told his friends about his sleeping habits, they didn't really understand the issue. It wasn't the lack of sleep that bothered Harry, it was feeling another person's vile emotions. Granted, he had avoided most of these types of dreams by passing out every night, but whenever he took a nap or didn't do his nightly elemental exercises he felt the dreams return with a vengeance.

"Harry did you find Dumbledore?" asked Hermione as she took her usual space across from him on the gryffindor table. Ron flopped down beside Hermione, and stared at Harry waiting for his answer.

"Sorry was lost in thought. Yeah, I managed to catch him. I'm going to talk to him after the feast. I have a few questions about magical theory and some other stuff," Harry finished with a slight lie. He was not sure why he was lying to his friends about this, but he really didn't want to tell them about what he saw on the train.

"That's good to hear. I'll be interested in what you learn from him, of course, he is rather brilliant isn't he?" Hermione, it appeared, was interested in the magical theory work that Harry had been attempting.

"Hermione, you are interested in learning anything," laughed Ron.

With a blush Hermione returned, "At least I'm trying to learn something. I recall you pushing off a learning experience this morning." Ron opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off when Professor Mcgonagall came into the hall with the first years.

"Did we ever look that small and scared?" asked Ron.

"Of course we were. At least I was, " stated Hermione in a hushed voice.

"If I recall correctly," started Harry with a small chuckle, "Ron was just relieved he didn't have to fight a troll."

Hermione broke out into a wide smile as Ron grumbled, "Shut it." The group fell into silence as the sorting hat sang of house unity, and the qualities of each house. Harry noted some of the first years staring up at the ceiling in awe. The ceiling of the Great Hall really was a great piece of magic. From what Harry remembered of Hermione's lectures on the subject over the years, it was an enchantment done by the legendary Rowena Ravenclaw. Glancing up at the ceiling himself, Harry once again was in awe of the magic. He didn't want to push his core out and feel the magic of the ceiling, but he was mildly curious what it felt like. His musings were interrupted as the first Gryffindor was sorted. The table erupted into applause as a young girl stumbled off of the stool and towards the table.

Young teens went to each house, with each group trying to be the loudest to welcome their new family. Due to the nature of the school being a boarding school, there really was a familial feel to the houses. While he may not alway get along with all of his house mates, for the most part Harry could honestly say, he wanted all of them to do well and be happy. While Harry never knew what it was like to have siblings, he assumed that his housemates were like a lesser form of that.

Dumbledore rose after the sorting had finished. "Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I hope that all of us can learn together, and create a productive environment that helps us all get along. For now, however, we eat." With a flourish of his hands, food appeared in front of all the students. A few gasps escaped the first years. Soon the clatter of dishes and the soft rumble of conversation saturated the hall.

"Harry aren't you going to eat something?" Harry blinked at the expectant Hermione.

"Oh... Yeah. Sorry I spaced out," muttered Harry as he put a few select helpings of food on his plate.

"Are you sure you're alright? You've been spacing out a lot today. Well over the summer too, but in particular today." Hermione was nothing if not persistent.

"I'm just pulling my core in so I don't get a headache from sensory overload. It's a bit like holding your breath. If you don't concentrated on it, you can't do it. I'm not trying to tune you out, it's just a by product. I'm sorry if I've upset you at all," finished Harry ducking his head down. He wasn't lying about having to concentrate, he just wasn't talking about what else was also on his mind.

"Mate… We aren't upset with you. Hermione was just concerned that's all. If we can help you at all with this core stuff, let us know."

Harry nodded stiffly, "Thanks." Ron was a good friend. There were times that he got angry and didn't think before he acted, but for all his faults, at his core he was kind hearted. And a bloody good chess player.

After most of the clattering had died down from students eating, Dumbledore rose and raised his hands to gather the halls attention. "Thank you. Now that we are all fed and watered, I must make a few announcements. "First Mr. Flitch would like to remind you that there are many prohibited items in school. A full list is available on his office door on the first floor. Secondly, I would like to remind you that magic in the corridors is highly frowned upon." The headmaster took a look backwards at his staff, "We also have a new teacher to introduce. I'd like everyone to welcome Mr. Smith from the Ministry, who is here to help us fill the void in the Defence Against the Dark Arts post." Dumbledore seemed to age slightly as he got ready to address the last topic. "Finally, today, there was an attack on Diagon Alley. The dark lord Voldemort," the headmaster paused for gasps, "attack with his forces while most of our protectors were ready to defend the train today. I will not go over the specifics, but let us take a moment and raise our glasses for those who fell today in Diagon Alley." Dumbledore solemnly rose his glass and intoned, "For Diagon Alley." Murmurs of repeat were heard throughout the hall. After a few moments, the headmaster continued, "As sad as I am to end on bad news like that, we must go on and live our lives. Fifth year prefects please lead your first year charges to the common rooms."

Hermione grabbed Harry's shoulder and looked directly at him, "You knew that was coming, and what happened. I could tell by watching you listen to that. You will tell me how right now."

Harry looked up at Hermione and shrugged off her hand, "This is neither the time nor the place. You do your duty to the first years, and I'll do mine."

"To whom Harry? What duties do you have?" pleaded Hermione.

"To you, my friends. This is mine to bear, but Hermione, the first years. Trust me I'm going to talk to Dumbledore. It will be ok," said Harry, though privately he did not know if it would turn out ok in the end.

Harry slowly made his way up to the third floor corridor which housed the stone gargoyles that protected the headmaster's office. He was not particularly looking forward to relieving this afternoon, but he figured he needed to tell someone about what he saw in his dream. Realising he hadn't gotten the password from Dumbledore earlier, Harry stared at the office guardian. "Err...I don't suppose you are going to let me in to see the headmaster?" The gargoyle leapt aside granting him access to the stairwell. "Oh...That was easy." Harry made his way to the top of the steps and knocked twice sharply on the door.

"Mr. Potter, come in please," came Dumbledore's voice through the door.

As the door swung open and revealed the circular office filled with trinkets, Harry replied, "Hello sir. Thank you for meeting with me."

"The pleasure is mine, my boy. I was hoping you could enlighten me as to how you knew of the attack today. I have a few theories, but the truthful account I find is much easier to understand." With a wave of his hand the aged headmaster conjured a soft chair for Harry to sink into.

"I don't really know where to begin," mumbled Harry as he gathered his thoughts.

"I find the beginning a good place to start usually."

A ghost of a smile flashed across Harry's face. "I felt him. I feel asleep and it was like it was me." Whatever humor was left from his slight joke had been removed from the headmaster's face. He peered over his glasses down at Harry. "I felt his joy as he butchered them. They family was the worst. He felt arousal from leaving the man with his dead family."

"Harry," began Dumbledore softly, "I know these atrocities were hard to witness."

"I felt joy from evaporating a man's entrails. I could taste his blood on my tongue and I like the taste. Why did I feel those things? Why does it happen to me always?"

"I sometimes ask myself the same question Harry. When I get overloaded with my duties, and have to deal with everything. But I always come back to one point. Would you push this upon someone else? Would you rather a friend of your's have to deal with it?"

"No of course not," said Harry quickly.

"And that is exactly what makes you a good person Harry. That is what tells me you can get through this." The headmaster clasped his hands and looked directly at Harry.

"How am I supposed to get over feeling things like that?"

Dumbledore sighed and looked down at his lap. "I'm not an expert on psychology, my boy, but I can say things are usually easier when you talk about them," He held his hand up to stop Harry's objection. "I don't mean you have to tell your friends, or anyone for that matter. I just mean for you to consider the possibility of talking to someone who will always be there for you no questions asked."

"Sirius," said Harry.

Dumbledore nodded, "He is one of many who would be glad to help you Harry. I suspect he is more mature and capable of helping you than he would let most people believe."

"He caught me off guard this summer. At first I thought I was the more mature of the two of us, but now, there is no doubt in my mind that Sirius is mature. He just hides behind the act of being a big kid."

"In addition Harry, I suggest you use this to further your drive." At Harry's surprised look he continued, "I may be old, but even I can see your change this summer. Tragic events can have that effect on some people. I trust you know I am here to help not only as an instructor, but also as a person who cares deeply for you."

Harry nodded solemnly, thinking back to his power and core magical theory questions. "He doesn't hold his power in. I felt that. He has more than you do headmaster."

"Indeed he does, but power is not everything in magic. It helps a large amount, but there are other things that contribute to one's ability to perform majestic magic." Dumbledore leaned back and steeped his fingertips together in thought. "The way my professor taught me when I was your age, Harry, was to consider magic in a similar light to writing."

"Writing? Like my essays?"

"In some ways, yes. In some ways no. Just like with magic, some people are better at writing than others. Take your friends Mrs. Granger and Mr. Weasley for example. Mrs. Granger is undoubtedly a better writer. That's not to say that Mr. Weasley can not write in his own way of course. Do you think Mrs. Granger is as good as she is at writing from practice or natural ability?"

Scratching his head Harry said, "A bit of both I reckon." Dumbledore looked expectantly at Harry for him to make the connection. "Oh! I get it. In magic some people practice a lot to get very good, and some people have natural talent."

"And the very best practice and have natural talent," finished Dumbledore. "on a very basic level that is magical theory. There are some things such as genes that also affect power and ability. As both of us know, not every is graced with perfect eyesight. Part of that is related to our parentage, and a larger part is related to a trace amount of luck."

"So you had powerful parents, and you were born powerful as well," finished Harry.

Dumbledore peered down at him, "I'm not the only one who fits that description in this room. Relating to magic theory, as I said, not everything is about power. There are some other nuances, such as efficiency. As we get older we become more efficient in writing our notes and essays do we not?"

"With magic it's the same," finished Harry. "As we get older and more experienced we can use our magic more efficiently. That's why the difference in power levels wouldn't matter as much if you fought Voldemort. That's why he is scared of you."

"The power levels would matter. He is stronger than I am, of course, but between you and me, Mr. Potter, I believe I have intelligence and sanity on my side. He is quick to be angered, and fights chaotically. I am, in my opinion a little bit cooler in the head, and think before I act." Dumbledore seemed to be thinking aloud as he stroked his beard.

"He is insane? Well I could tell in my vision, but how and why?" Harry leaned forward his stomach lurching again with the memory remind of this afternoon.

"Undoubtedly. The dark arts steal away sanity as a price for their power. That is why, he is so chaotic now and why he got even more insane as the last war continued," answered Dumbledore.

"Sir? I have one more question." At Dumbledore's nod he continued, "Why am I so weaker than the adults around me? I thought I might be stronger than a few, but all adults have dwarfed me in power."

"Well you haven't gone through a magical maturity yet. Most wizards mature between the ages of seventeen and twenty. Seventeen is much rarer than the other ages, as the ones who mature earlier are much more powerful for some reason. We usually only get one or two students in their seventh year who mature, and gain a significant boost in power."

"When did you go through your maturity? Did it hurt?" asked Harry curiously.

"Hmmm." Dumbledore leaned back. "I was sixteen in my sixth year when I went through the process. As to if it hurt, I would say that I had never felt better than when I matured, but those memories are so long ago, I barely remember them happening, let alone what I was feeling. Most people say it doesn't hurt at all, if that eases your fears."

Sensing the late hour, and the end of the conversation, Harry stood up. "Thank you sir. I will research more on the topic. Thank you for your advice about this afternoon. If I witness anything of note, I will, of course, let you know. Goodnight sir." Harry turned towards the door to head back to the tower where Hermione was guaranteed to be waiting full of questions he didn't want to answer.

"Harry, my boy, good night. I hope you continue to come to me, so I can help with both your education and life. Also, the password for Gryffindor Tower is 'Royalty'." Harry nodded and departed the room silently wondering how Dumbledore knew he didn't know the password.

**AN: Well that was certainly intense. I had to go into a very dark place to write that scene, and I'm not exactly proud of the fact that I can write something like that. I hope we all learned a little bit more about runes and some magical theory for this story from this chapter as well. I can't keep my excitement about history out of the story, so I apologize for dragging you along with me on my journeys in search of historical knowledge.**

**I'm going back and editing some of the previous chapters, and taking out some of the language and references. I do want this story to be a story that is taken somewhat seriously, so I'm trying to lessen some of the quirks, I would normally have.**

**Thanks for reading, and remember a review helps push me to write more and not be afraid to publish what I have written. It's not necessary, but if you want to give me a poke to continue, that's the best way to do so.**


	6. Revelations

**AN: Hey all sorry about the delay. Started a new job and doing all that paperwork is a hassle and gets in the way of life. Got a beta to look over my first few chapters, so I will be updating those after the new year. I'm pretty unhappy with them as they stand, so it will be a fairly large update. As usual, let me know if you see any mistakes, I will try to fix them as I see them.**

**~Enjoy**

* * *

Harry Potter was extremely grateful that September first fell on a Friday this year, as he had a whole weekend to try and figure out how to deal with his searing headache. He had learned over the course of the summer to hold his magical core inside of his body for less strenuous activities like walking around for a brief amount of time. Harry could not, however, hold his core pulled in for an entire day straight. He had managed to fall asleep Friday night with it held in, but when he woke, he was greeted with a massive headache due to the information influx from his ability to feel the magic around him.

Harry had found he had the problem of feeling magic in a magically saturated area Friday morning, as he got to the hidden platform in King's Cross station. It seemed that reaching out with his magic caused his brain to become saturated with information on every bit of magic in the area. Harry decided to deal with his headache all weekend in hopes that it would dissipate as his mind got use to the influx of information.

Saturday had been both vindicating and tiring. The Daily Prophet had decided to do a full page spread on the attack on Diagon Alley. Naturally, being proven right after a summer being slammed by the media, made Harry a popular figure again. However, due to his migraine created by the ambient magic of Hogwarts, and the rumors about him circulating the rumor mill, Harry had been on edge all day.

To avoid the whispers and the stares, he visited the library with Hermione, despite Ron's abundant protests, to see what defensive and magical theory books the Hogwart's collection contained. As the pair perused the shelves Hermione stated, "You knew. Last night you knew before he said the announcement."

Pulling out a book to add it to his collection of dusty tomes Harry replied, "Aye. I wasn't sure if it was real until I asked Dumbledore about it. I uh… dreamed about it?"

Hermione ran her hand along a row of books searching for a transfiguration text. "That sounds like a question. You think it wasn't a dream even though it happened while you were sleeping?"

"It wasn't me. I could feel him as though it was me."

Hermione paused, a quivering hand still outstretched halfway between her person and the bookshelf. "Voldemort?" Her head slowly turned as she took in the implications of Harry's statement. Her eyes started to water, "Oh Harry. That's terrible. No wonder you were sick on the train."

Harry rustled his free hand through his hair trying to hide how much this conversation made him uncomfortable. "I'm fine. It was bad for a bit, but I'm fine now." It wasn't that he didn't want Hermione to know, as it was late for that, but rather Harry didn't want pity from anyone about the situation.

"You always say that Harry"

Harry sighed and put his books down on an empty table. "I'm always fine. I get through stuff like this… it's part of being me."

"Until you don't." Hermione sat down and opened a book, but didn't read it. She stared over the top at Harry, who was seated across from her.

"I know I can't keep this to myself Hermione. I understand that, but please don't ask me to tell you. I will talk to Sirius or Dumbledore about it."

"Harry, why are you pushing me away? I'm here trying to help you with this."

"I love you and Ron dearly, Hermione, but please… you just don't want to know. I can't protect you guys from everything, but I can spare you this. Trust me when I say that I will handle it, and I'm currently looking for a way to have it not happen again. I'm researching magical theory today for a reason."

Hermione looked Harry in the eyes for any hint of deception. After a stagnant pause she replied, "I trust you. It's just hard for me to accept not knowing things. I trust you Harry, so I"ll let this drop, but please don't push me away anymore."

"I never tried to…" Harry trailed off as he picked up his text and began to read. He never noticed the strange look sent his way by Hermione, nor the blonde sitting two tables away pretending to read as she listened into the conversation.

* * *

"Daphne! I heard something interesting today that you might want to hear." Tracey's blond hair bobbed as she ran to catch up with her childhood friend.

Daphne turned, pushing a strand of red hair behind her ear, grinned and said, "Seeing as you spend the first morning of a weekend in the library, I hardly see how that is possible."

"Well if you don't want me to tell you why you're new boy toy was sad the other day, then I won't tell you," replied Tracey. She buffed her fingernails on her robe looking bored.

"He's.. not... my... boy... toy," growled Daphne speaking every word slowly as she glowered at her friend. "Why did he cry on the express?" Tracey didn't say anything and looked at her expectantly as she continued to shine her fingernails on her robes. "Fine. I'm sorry I teased you about the library," finished Daphne.

Tracey smiled brightly, then her look soured, "Let's find somewhere more isolated before I tell you." She grabbed Daphne and pulled her towards an unused room on the second floor corridor in which they were standing. "I'll say Potter clearly doesn't know the value of a privacy ward."

Daphne laughed slightly and threw up a few minor charms to prevent the pair from being overheard. "Now, what were you saying about Potter?"

"Well he and Granger were talking." Tracey leaned back on an empty desk as she settled down to tell her tale. "It turns out he was explaining to Granger how he knew about the attack on Diagon Alley before the Headmaster told us about it. Apparently, if I'm reading the situation right, Granger noticed last night that Potter already knew about the attack, and was asking why."

Daphne slumped down onto a desk. "Wait, wait. Slow down. We saw him on the train… How could he have known?"

Tracey tapped her foot, "Well if you would let me finish…" Daphne grumbled an apology and bowed her head slightly before looking expectantly at Tracey. "Apparently he dreamed it."

"So you want me to believe Potter can tell the future?" Daphne scoffed.

Tracey shook her head, "No. It was something else, but he wouldn't tell Granger, so I don't know for certain. All I know is that it happened while he was sleeping and he felt his feelings as though they were his own."

"Who? You-know-who?... Merlin." Daphne leaned back as she took in the information. Running a hand through her bangs, she started again, "No wonder he cried. I can't even imagine being so intimately connected to someone so vile."

Tracey shifted on her desk to lessen the discomfort of leaning on an edge. "Yeah… Granger was asking, but Potter told her that he wouldn't tell her what he saw. He wanted to spare her from knowing what exactly, I guess. He mentioned that he would talk about it with Sirius and Dumbledore. Dumbledore I know, but who is Sirius I wonder."

Daphne tapped her chin. "I imagine it's Sirius Black, I still don't know why Potter is hanging around his family's betrayer, but I knew the pair were together sometime during the summer."

"Sirius Black! What? How?" Tracey stuttered, surprised from Daphne's revelation.

"Well our marriage contract comes from a Black and Greengrass alignment in the early eighteen hundreds. My father found out it was Potter who I was betrothed too, and deduced that Sirius Black had adopted him as his heir. I don't know why, but it's safe to assume that he means Sirius Black when he said Sirius."

"Well," started Tracey as she tapped her foot nervously on the ground, "Given that the Ministry obviously lied about You-Know-Who coming back, I don't think it's a stretch to guess that they have covered up other things for the sake of public appearance. I'd wager that Potter knows of another Ministry cover up, but that's all guesswork. It could be something as simple as Potter not knowing about Sirius's crimes."

Daphne shook her head, "Potter is dumb, but Granger isn't. I have no doubt she would have checked up on the history of that night."

Tracey tilted her head and looked at her best friend, "Where do you get this idea that Potter is dumb? I'm not disagreeing or anything, but I don't think he is Weasley level or anything."

"He's no titan academically for one," said a rather annoyed Daphne. "And two, he is really clueless towards what happens around him. You've seen his lack of silencing and privacy charms."

Tracey laughed, "I can't really argue the second point, but I'm not a titan academically either." She paused before faking a few sniffles, "Do you think I'm stupid too?"

Daphne giggled and shoved Tracey's arm, "If you keep acting like that I might." Tracey smiled playfully at her. "But seriously Tracey, I don't think you are dumb. Potter is… awkward. Like he is out of place all the time. He stands out because of who he is, but always shies away from being noticed. We hear these unbelievable stories about him slaying monsters, and defeating teachers, but in reality he is just a kid who is too silly to recognise that he will never be able to hide from his fame."

Tracey jumped up and pulled her wand out and pointed it at Daphne, who arched an eyebrow at her friends antics. "Who are you and what have you done to Daphne? That was almost nice to Potter."

Daphne leaned her head back and laughed. "You have to admit it's hard to see the kid we know in class doing all of those things. Apparently he was telling the truth though..."

Tracey waggled her eyebrows. "You have to admit he grew up a bit this summer. He came back to school looking...dishy."

"Tracey, please obliviate the last ten seconds from my memory so I never have to remember you ever saying that." Daphne slumped forward and put her head in her hands shaking it in exasperation.

"What? You could have gotten someone like Smith from Hufflepuff. Potter is better looking than that kid, even you have to admit that."

"At least Smith acts properly and doesn't seem out of place," stated Daphne testily.

"What?" laughed Tracey. "You mean like how he's an arse and walks like he keeps his wand where the sun doesn't shine?" Daphne didn't answer, but rather blushed lightly and grumbled to herself.

* * *

Harry needed a place to train. He didn't want to blow up an abandoned classroom, but he didn't have any other ideas at the moment. He just had to be careful today as he explored his elemental powers. Over the summer he had been able to pull up his elemental wind magic swirl it around him, but had not tried anything beyond that as he wanted to wait until he could use magic incase he destroyed his surroundings. He could just imagine his relatives reaction to breaking something within the confines of Privet Drive.

Harry reached down within himself, as he did every night when he pulled up his elemental powers, and pulled up. This time, however, instead of restraining his power to a swirl around his torso, he let it grow. The wind picked up as it normally did, and began to come off of him is oscillations of power. The nature of wind magic was such that it was quickly pulled up in terms of power, but the user could not build up and store the power before it dissipated. With the more powerful elemental magics, such as fire and water, the power they had could be held longer allowing for more powerful releases. As far as Harry had read, most elemental magics could be devastating forces if unleashed properly. However, unlike normal spells, they took hard work and time to become powerful, so most wizards and witches didn't study elemental magic.

Harry, however, was not most wizards. Grunting from the effort he released his elemental magic to the best of his ability. Raw magic and wind poured off of his body, rising up and swirling in the same oscillating pattern over and over. Harry was both awestruck and at terrified. Never before had he handled such power in a single spell or form. The closest he had gotten was using a patronus for an extended period of time. However the wind magic drained his reserves extremely quickly. He was already starting to shake from the drain the magic put on his body. Harry collapsed and dropped his magic, breathing heavily. He was astounded how much his core was drained while pushing his wind energy.

Normally if Harry was containing himself and holding his elemental magic in when he was casting his elemental magic, he could last about ten minutes these days. He doubted he had lasted a full minute pushing himself. He rose to his feet once again, albeit unsteadily, and decided, perhaps, a nap before dinner was in order. Harry waved his wand, feeling the pull on his magic once again, and reorganized the desks and chairs, as well as repairing any that had been damaged. He stumbled out of the classroom in search of Gryffindor tower and a nice warm bed.

* * *

After a weekend of dealing with his slowly receding headache, and testing his elemental magic, Harry was excited for classes to get underway on Monday morning. He had gone for his daily morning run prior to breakfast and was now on his way to his first class on Monday, transfiguration. In past years, Harry had never been excited for classes, but rather just happy to be at Hogwarts instead of the Dursleys. After the end of his fourth year, he had decided to take school seriously, as well as train outside of classes.

Harry walked into Transfiguration and saw Ron and Hermione had were sitting together near the front of the classroom. He slipped into the empty table for two just behind his best friends. "Hey guys."

"Harry! Where were you this morning? Why didn't we see you at breakfast?" Hermione launched into her questions without bothering to wait for answers. Harry smiled softly, and held up his hand for Hermione to stop.

"Breathe Hermione, the let man answer," muttered Ron.

Harry flashed a quick grin Ron's way before answering, "I had breakfast right after my run. I get up early these days to run as it's cooler and helps refresh me for the day."

"What time did you wake up?" Hermione's questions never stopped it seemed.

"A little before six," muttered Harry as he stretched in the uncomfortable seats of the transfiguration classroom.

"That was three hours ago mate! What have you been doing?" Ron was horrified at the idea of waking up that early.

"Oh I just did some research on Sanskrit runes in the library, but it didn't have many books on topic, just a few passing mentions," said Harry quietly, as he pulled out some parchment and his quill as he got ready to take notes.

"Did you know they are the only runic language that has runes that mean nothing? Filler runes," Hermione trailed off as she noticed Harry's slight nod.

"Blimey, you two. I'm in one class already, I don't need another," complained Ron. Harry grimaced at Ron's refusal to let an academic conversation take place in his presence, but let the issue drop none the less. Further conversation was stopped, as McGonagall came into the classroom at that moment,

In her usual thick scottish brogue she spoke firmly, "This year will challenge you in many ways. Dare I say, it will be your most difficult year to date. The Ordinary Wizarding Level exams will determine what you are able to do for the rest of your life. There are no second chances, so I trust that all of you will approach this year with the level of respect it deserves. I will take it personally should any of you choose to give less than your very best." Harry looked to his right, where Neville had ended up sitting, and saw most of the class seemed to be taking professor McGonagall's warnings seriously. For her faults of being an unpersonable and unapproachable adult, Professor McGonagall was a fantastic teacher, who demanded the very best from her students.

After a stagnant pause, the elderly scottish professor launched into her lecture on the importance of visualization in animation, It appeared that in this year of transfiguration, the class would be doing a subset of the subject revolving around turning inanimate objects into moving objects, both abiotic and biotic. Today they would be attempting to make a teapot pour tea without the use of a levitation charm. By animating the teapot to pour itself whenever an empty tea cup was near, the students would begin to understand the idea of creating movement via intent instead of forcing an object to move.

Harry scribbled his notes along with the lecture, paying particular attention to McGonagall speaking about visualisation and intent. He was never the best at trying to understand a theory of a particular spell, so he focused on understanding on how it felt to cast the spell and what he should be concentrating on during the casting. With a wave of her wand, Professor McGonagall sent teacups and teapots from her desk to every workstation in the classroom. "I want you to work with your neighbor today. Try the spell and discuss what worked and what didn't work." Harry quirked an eyebrow at Neville, who shrugged. This type of teaching was unusual for the aged assistant headmistress, who normally preferred to lecture for most of the class and then have students each attempt a spell alone.

Training his attention on the slightly chubby form of Neville Longbottom to his right, Harry softly spoke, "Want to give it a go first?"

Neville pensively nodded, "Foveo." Both boys stared at the teapot hopefully for a few seconds before realising it wasn't going to move.

"Hmm," muttered Harry poking the teapot with his wand. "There's no magic in the teapot." Turning to his right again, he asked, "What did you think about when you were casting?"

Neville tilted his head slightly to the side in thought. "I dunno… I was just sort of hoping the spell would work."

Harry nodded slightly, "I going to trying it, but also focus mentally on the idea of teapot pouring tea into the teacup." Looking at Neville to see if he was ready, Harry clutched his wand and closed his eyes briefly. Pulling up his magic, he intoned, "Foveo." Suddenly the teapot lept up and started pouring tea into the teacup. It didn't, however, stop pouring tea, even after the cup overflowed onto the table. Canceling the animation and clearing the table of the tea, with a wave of his wand and a mutter, Harry looked at Neville. "I rekon that mentally imagining the task the teapot needs to do is important. I told it to pour tea, but I didn't tell it when to stop."

Neville nodded solemnly. "Wanna have another go Harry? I'm sure you can do it if you try again."

Harry shook his head. "No. It's your turn. You trying imagining filling the cup up to near the brim, and I bet you can do it." Shrugging, the chubby boy paused for a moment before he whispered the incantation with a wave of his wand. The teapot jumped up and started pouring the tea into the cup. This time, however, the pot stopped when it was suppose to stop. Harry clapped Neville on the back, "I knew you could do it mate."

Professor McGonagall appeared next to the pair, "Well done Mr. Longbottom. Take ten points for Gryffindor." The young boy flushed in embarrassment at being the first one in the class to complete the task. "Do not be embarrassed Mr. Longbottom. You completed a difficult task. Be proud of your work." With that she stepped away to help out another pair of students.

Harry grinned at the flushed boy next to him. "Technically speaking this spell animates the teapot to do whatever we want…" Neville looked at Harry blankly. Harry smiled, "If you don't like being the center of attention I know someone who does." At the continued black look, Harry's eyes flickered over to the redhead in front of him. Whispering now Harry continued, "I want to get some payback from over the summer." Neville's face flashed a conspiratorial grin. "Foveo," Harry muttered. His teapot rose up over Ron's head, tilted, and poured the hot liquid on the gangly redhead.

"HOT! IT'S HOT. BLOODY HELL," yelled Ron as he lept out of his seat. Harry roared with laughter, as Ron turned to stare at him with his hair sopping wet.

"MR. POTTER! Ten points from Gryffindor." McGonagall waved the wand a few times cleaning up the mess and returning Harry and Neville's teapot to the table.

"Sorry Professor, I made a mistake while I was attempting the spell," said Harry innocently, batting his eyes a few times for good measure.

"Indeed Mr. Potter. See to it that one of your spell accidents doesn't affect another student, or it will be a detention instead of points." She glared sternly at Harry, but he would later swear, he saw a ghost of a smile settle her face for the briefest of moments.

"Yes ma'am." Soon the elderly lady was back instructing other students across the room. Tapping Ron on the shoulder, Harry snickered, "Surprise! That's what you get for not mailing me this summer." Ron grumpily muttered under his breath while Hermione glared daggers at Harry for daring to interrupt her learning environment.

The rest of transfiguration class went relatively calmly, with the exception of Seamus actually managing to turn his tea into explosive mixture. The destruction was short lived, as McGonagall hand been on hand to set everything right, as well as reprimand the young irishman for trying to turn his tea into rum. Harry and Neville had continued to practice the animation spell, until they were instructed to read ahead.

* * *

"Tell me you were paying attention this morning in class." Daphne looked up at Tracey and narrowed her eyes slightly. She was tired of Tracey bringing up Harry Potter every chance she could. "I mean Longbottom got the spell right first. I thought Granger was going to kill the poor boy the with the glare she was giving him,"

Daphne was surprised Tracey left Potter alone for once. "I couldn't really believe it, but he looked pretty happy. I guess it was a matter of time, until he started showing some promise."

"Ha. Longbottom and promise. Good one Greengrass."

Daphne turned to the blonde who intruded on her conversation. "Malfoy. If anyone wanted your opinion, they would have asked. Go away."

Draco laughed loudly. "Oh Daphne… Is that any way to treat your future husband? In a couple of years, when I turn seventeen, I will be named Lord Black. With my new title comes my new…" Draco paused to stare at Daphne lecherously, "Wife."

Daphne's eyes widened. Malfoy had no idea the contract had already been activated between herself and Potter. "That's assuming that Black is dead."

"He's probably dead on a street somewhere," spat Draco. "Besides, even if he isn't dead, I will win you over with the Malfoy charm. You will be mine Greengrass."

Tracey jumped up ready to curse the blonde boy in front of her. "Get out of here Malfoy. The only charm your family has, is the ability to piss of everyone you meet."

Draco spun around to face her. "Shut up you filthy half-blood. You better watch how you treat your betters, or something tragic may happen."

Tracey opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off my Daphne. "Just leave Malfoy. I'm sure you have some other people to torture with your presence." The young heir spun around and marched off after a final glare directed at Tracey. "What a pompous twit. Does he really think I will fall for him?"

Tracey grinned, "I almost gagged when he said that. At least he doesn't know about Potter."

Daphne grimaced at the reminder of her impending marriage to the golden moron of Gryffindor. "Malfoy is all bark and no bite, and he is still as clueless as he was when he first came to Hogwarts."

Across the Great Hall, Ron Weasley was alternating between eating and telling the story of how he was drenched by tea today in Transfiguration to anyone that would listen. Dean and Seamus laughed uproariously with each telling of the tale. More importantly, to Harry, no one was bothering Neville about his day in class. While the Longbottom heir had done a wonderful job in class, he was embarrassed about getting the spell right first in the class. Harry couldn't place why it would bother someone to get it right first, but Neville seemed to dislike the idea of being the center of attention as much as he did.

Hermione tapped his arm softly bringing him out of his thoughts. "I may have my head in books most of the day, but I'm not blind. You did a good thing for Neville today." At Harry's questioning look she continued with a slight sigh of exasperation, "I know it was intentional. This was well planned Harry… No one is bothering Neville, even after his amazing day, and Ron is living it up, at the slight expense of your feelings. Very Slytherin of you."

Harry winked, "I don't know what you mean Hermione. It was an accident. I just wasn't thinking properly about where to pour the tea." He gave his best female friend his trademark lopsided smile. "Besides, I'm not even bothered by that at all," he finished gesturing towards Ron regaling yet another group of students with his story.

Hermione stared at Harry. "I heard to and Neville planning it."

"And you didn't stop me?" asked Harry.

"Well I was a bit busy trying to figure out how Neville finished the spell before me. I'm happy for him, of course, but I was shocked at the time."

Harry laughed. "Enough about my slytherin side. Tell me about runes. You had it today right? I should really drop divination and join you."

Hermione perked up at the idea, and launched into a lecture about what the fifth year class had learned today in runes. Professor Vector had been teaching them advanced Roman runes, and the structure by which they were put into place. Interestingly Harry learned that Hermione shared her afternoon runes class with Daphne Greengrass. He was curious about the redheaded Slytherin. He had never had a bad experience with her prior to the situation on the train.

"What's Greengrass like in class?" Hermione looked up at Harry, who blushed slightly. "I'm just trying to understand why she dislikes me."

Hermione peered at her closest friend, "I've never seen you care about someone who caused trouble for you. You generally compartmentalize this stuff very well and move past it. I doubt that you are particularly moved by a pretty face, so what actually has you curious about her?"

"It's hard to say. I dunno exactly. On the train, when I stopped her from slapping me, I pinned her and stunned her. We were close, physically, but in that moment, I felt like she was…" Harry paused searching for the words to describe the look she had in her eyes. "Scared, but also angry about something I'd done. With Malfoy it's easy. He hates what I stand for, so I can understand why he acts the way he does. With Greengrass I felt guilty, even though I was only defending myself if that makes any sense."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I can understand what you mean. I don't get why she would attack you, as she is normally out of the way so to speak." At Harry's inquisitive look she revised, "What I mean to say is that she seems private, much as you are, but she does have a bit of a reputation. She is an excellent dueler, and becomes even better when she gets angry."

"I guess the idea that all redheads are feisty still applies to her?" laughed Harry.

"Even when she is angry, she is still in control, or so people say. That's why it was so surprising to me, when I heard she attacked you on the train. Not necessarily that she attacked, but rather that she lost control of herself." Hermione twirled a bit of her bushy hair as she spoke, clearly thinking carefully about how to describe the girl.

"Is she prone to attack people," asked Harry. "I feel like I would have heard about it if she was."

"No, not at all. I didn't mean to say she was prone to attack people. Anyways I don't really know too much about her, besides what I hear from other people, and we both know that rumors are hardly ever true," she finished pointedly.

"Hmm," mumbled Harry. "Do you think you could ask her next time you have runes together? I know it's another week away, but I'm kind of curious." He wasn't sure why. but he needed to find out why the girl acted the way she did. He had a feeling that her reason was important, but didn't know whether or not to trust his gut.

"I have arithmancy with her best friend Tracey on Wednesday. I'll see if I can get her to tell me a bit about the incident. I don't ever talk to her, but I can ask for you if you want. Honestly though, Harry, you might just want to ask her yourself. I highly doubt it's important. It's not like everything we come across is a major life event."

Harry nodded mutely, but couldn't shake the feeling that his best friend didn't fully grasp the situation. There was something hidden in the pretty girl's eyes that betrayed the seriousness of her anger. Shaking his head, Harry decided to confront Daphne Greengrass and ask her why she was angry.

* * *

Lord Voldemort was many things. He was powerful, an elemental magician, a leader of a new revolution of the wizarding world, but most of all, he was intelligent. He had to be, if he was to become a ruler of the new world. No one seemed to understand things the way he did. Sacrifices had to be made in order for his vision of a perfect world to be realized. There was a natural order to life, based on power. Those who gave in and indulged in the power, where the ones who were strong enough to lead the world.

Fear. It was a tool Voldemort use frequently, an effective means of stopping the masses from rising up against him. No matter how strong a wizard was, an unexpected spell could defeat them. Voldemort knew he needed to control the wizarding population , and limit his opposition to a smaller number of more predictable wizards. Dumbledore and the ministry were easy to read. He knew they would try to stop him, so he was rarely surprised by the older wizard and his followers.

Voldemort knew he needed a way to inspire terror in the masses. Diagon Alley had been a success, but he couldn't be the only person of which everyone was afraid. he needed everyone to be afraid of any given person they met at work or on the streets. He needed a group of people who were looked over, forgotten, but intermingled amongst the populace. He needed the squibs of the wizarding world to create terror, the question was not if they would, but how he could make them into a weapon.

* * *

Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Smith was not a waste of time like Harry feared it would have been. It turned out that the professor was an ex hit wizard, and had only gotten the job after the attack on Diagon Alley. He had made a big deal about watching the world, both in duels and out of them. The more observant one was, the less likely they were to be taken by surprise. To Harry, the lesson was not new, per say, but rather it reinforced his belief to continue practicing sensing magic. He hoped that one day, he would be able to feel spells coming for him, by feeling the magic around him.

His mother's notebook suggested that she believed that certain people had a predisposition towards being sensitive towards magic. Harry hoped that meant he had the chance to feel magic coming towards him, as he was clearly sensitive towards magic, if this weekend had been any indication. Until he was able to figure out if he could sense spells , Harry needed to listen to Professor Smith, and learn to be more aware of his surroundings. Regardless of his potential ability, it wasn't like the professor's teachings would hurt Harry. The worst case scenario was that they wouldn't help, but Harry had a sneaking suspicion that it would help one day.

Harry's physical training was progressing well. He had taken to doing his morning runs around the black lake, which suited him just fine, as the cold air sweeping off of the lake kept him cool. His morning runs always seemed to refresh him, but lately his less than stellar sleeping had left him groggy even after his workouts. He was once again plagued by nightmares at night, which kept him from sleeping well. Harry knew he was suffering from sleep deprivation, but there was little he could do about it. All his research into the subject had yielded depressing results. Even with the possibilities of the magical world, there was still very little that could be done about sleep issues.

It seemed that the mind was very fragile, and very little could be done to assist of heal minds. There was a reason failed oblivation curses had no cure. Harry had hoped dreamless sleep potion would be an option for him. However it appeared that sleeping potions were extremely addictive with constant use, and had some very serious side effects that were caused by extended use. They were safe for a night or two, but any longer would cause permanent damage to the user's mind. Once the mind was damaged from Dreamless Sleep Potion, nothing could be done to repair it. There were accounts of patients spending decades in a hospital ward one to eventually die from the damage done by a month's worth of dreamless sleep potion.

With sleep aids out of the question, the only possible solution he had been able to come up with had been to change his sleeping area. The book had suggested that reducing stress factors and increasing positive associations with sleep would help. However, as Harry was, for the foreseeable future, stuck in his dormitory at Hogwarts. He resolved to speak with Madam Pomphrey if it grew to be a larger issue. For now he would just deal with having less sleep than he needed.

* * *

Harry wanted to ask Daphne Greengrass about the train incident, but couldn't contain his nervousness about approaching the girl. Despite facing perilous dangers many times in his young life, he still didn't know how to approach an unfamiliar girl, even if it wasn't about a romantic topic. Despite her hostile attitude towards him, Harry couldn't deny his attraction to the redheaded slytherin. It wasn't that Harry wasn't able to talk to girls, but rather the fact that he found them attractive made it more uncomfortable than usual.

Groups of the Gryffindors and Slytherins were mingling after their last class of the day, Herbology, While clusters of friends had gotten up and left for their dormitories, Harry and Hermione were still talking over the end of the lesson. Ron had left with Dean and Seamus, planning a gobstones match. Daphne and her friend Tracey were talking quietly on the side of the pathway back to the entrance hall.

Harry was agitated and nervous about approaching the pair of Slytherins, but knew he couldn't put this off. Hermione placed a calming hand on his shoulder, knowing Harry didn't like awkward and new social situations. Working up his nerve, he stepped forward and spoke, "Greengrass a word?"

The redhead Slytherin eyed him suspiciously. "What is it?"

Harry reached up and nervously slide a hand through his untamed hair, "Err… Have I upset you?" Tracey giggled at Harry's nervousness, but was silenced by a withering glare from Daphne. "I… uh… How do I ask this… Why did you try to slap me on the train?"

Daphne stared at him blankly. "You honestly don't know?"

Harry shook his head negative, and Hermione spoke up stiffly, "Well if we knew, would we be asking?"

Harry placed his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "What she means to say is, that I was curious about what happened on the train. I noticed that you were angry, obviously, but something in your glare told me to find out why. It felt like you were justified in a weird way, you know?"

Tracey looked at Harry with her head slightly tilted to the side. "You got all of that from the few seconds of the incident?"

Looking down at his feet, trying to hid his embarrassment, Harry kicked a bit of dirt back and forth with his foot. "I know it sounds stupid, but I trust my instincts. They have helped me out on more than one occasion," he finished darkly.

"Regardless of how stupid it sounds," started Daphne, "This isn't the place for this conversation. We need to go to a more remote place where we won't be overheard by anyone."

"Do I look stupid?" Harry asked.

Daphne glanced sharply at him. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Ignoring her, Harry continued. "I'm not about to walk off with the two people that attacked me."

Tracey sighed and spoke, "Bring Granger then if you trust her with something like this." With that the pair of Slytherins turned and walked towards the castle. Harry glanced at Hermione, who nodded, and together the pair followed Tracey and Daphne.

"You trust me with this Harry?" asked Hermione softly. "You don't know what it is. It could be anything."

"It doesn't matter what it is. I trust you." Harry ran his hand through his hair, as he glanced at the sky. "That was awkward… talking to them like that."

Hermione nodded mutely matching Harry's stride step for step. "Why are you so nervous about talking to people."

"Not people per say." Harry paused and flushed, "Just them I guess."

"What girls?" laughed Hermione. "You talk to me just fine."

"I don't know. I think it's more that I don't know them. I know you, obviously, as you are my best friend, but I don't know how they will react. Plus, the bad blood from the train, just added to it all." Harry stopped Hermione with his arm. "They went in here," he stated pointing towards an open door. "I'll go in first and feel things out. You follow and be prepared to fight if we have too. I'm not particularly scared of these two, but you never know."

Hermione nodded, as Harry slipped his wand out of his sleeve. He reached out with his magic searching for anything unfamiliar. Finding nothing, except two cores in the room, he tentatively took a step into the unused classroom. Tracey and Daphne were leaning up against a desk with their arms crossed watching him. "Do you really think we would attack you?" asked Daphne.

"Well it wouldn't be the first time, would it?" answered Harry snarkily. Daphne flushed briefly in embarrassment, having forgotten the train ride momentarily. "All clear Hermione, come on in." His bushy haired friend stepped in behind him, shutting the door behind her. Harry whipped his wand to the door and started casting charms and protections insuring the party would not get interrupted. "Ok. Tell me what this is all about."

Daphne spoke first, after a brief silence, "You were in Diagon Alley this summer."

"So was everyone," pointed out Hermione.

Daphne grimaced. "Just let me tell the story before you jump in. Anyways, while everyone goes to Diagon Alley every summer, very rarely does someone get magically adopted by Sirius Black."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Harry's aura flared. "You will tell me how you know about Sirius, or I will make you. No one knows about Sirius so tell me how you know." Tracey and Daphne leaned back, slightly scared of the aura in front of them.

Tracey raised her hands to pacify Harry. "Slow down, we didn't spy or anything like that. Just let her explain, and then react." She looked directly at Harry who stared back not flinching. "For my friend, Daphne, just listen."

Harry's glare softened, and his aura dropped. Daphne cleared her throat, "As I was saying, before boy wonder over here had his magical tantrum, over the summer something happened. You," she indicated Harry by nodding towards him, "were adopted by Sirius Black. You became heir presumptive of the Black family."

"Ok," began Hermione, "But I don't see what that has to do with you. Does being an heir really mean anything anymore outside of inheriting money when the head of the family passes on?"

Tracey twirled as stray sting of hair idly in her hand. "Yes and no. In the last century, more progressive measures have been taken, and have removed the hierarchal power of families from Wizengamot. They don't have any more power than say, you or I. However, they still have familial responsibilities."

"Yes," cut in Daphne. "In this case, the Black family heir has responsibilities of the old family contracts regardless of blood birth."

"Contracts? What contracts?" asked Harry shakily. He didn't like the serious tone of this talk. He had honestly expected it to be some petty squabble over school houses, or something of the like. "I've never signed any contract with anyone, and I was forced into the Goblet's contract."

Daphne huffed, and crossed her arms. "Well, Potter, you accepted the responsibilities of being a Black hier didn't you? I know how the adoption ritual goes, and you have to agree to the rights, privileges, and responsibilities of the Black family."

"Yes. I remember the goblin asking me about those." Harry tapped his chin as he thought back to his summer trip to the Goblin bank. "He didn't tell me what they were though. What does any of this have to do with you?"

Daphne tugged at her hair looking nervous. "How do I put this… I'm the responsibility, or rather my family owes you the responsibility. No that's not right. Uh…"

"Marriage," Tracey blurted.

Harry's world skidded to a halt. "What?"

Daphne shrunk down. "So you really don't know?" Harry vehemently shook his head negative, as Hermione stared at Tracey still stuck in shock. "A Greengrass was saved by a Black in the early eighteen hundreds. The Black house, being a major political power at the time, demanded a contract from the Greengrass family for saving a life. A marriage contract, between a female Greengrass and a male Black Heir, who were within a single year. It was designed to control the Greengrass vote, as until the contract was fulfilled, the Black family could use the Greengrass Wizengamot vote however they pleased."

"And when I was adopted I made the contact able to be fulfilled," finished Harry slowly. He couldn't think. He didn't know what to think. The wizarding world had filled him with hope and given him freedom from the Dursleys, but it had just snatched back his freedom.

Hermione had a few tears brimming in her eyes. "Is there a way out? Nothing personal, but I don't want to see Harry in a loveless marriage."

Daphne stared at the ground. "If it helps we aren't married yet, we have until you are seventeen. Well, until you are an adult in the eyes of the law, which would be seventeen. Technically we are each other's betrothed."

Harry stumbled up from the desk he was leaning on, "I'm just gunna… yeah…space," and staggered out of the room with the weight of the revelation about his future hanging on his shoulders.

Daphne and Tracey looked at each other, then to Hermione, who just stared back dejectedly. The bushy haired girl sighed, "Something every year. He can never have a year where nothing happens to him. For what it's worth, Daphne, I'm sorry you were dragged into this, and I will double check the contract if I can get my hands on it." The redhead just nodded solemnly, and looked at the floor, clearly upset at the prospect of an arranged marriage.

Tracey stared at Hermione inquisitively. "What do you mean something every year?"

Hermione flushed, "It's nothing, forget I said anything." With that she stood up and made her way to the room's exit. Looking back she softly said, "Give him some space and time to work on this. If there is anyone who can find a way out of something like this, it's Harry. I will do my best to help him, of course, but he is the one who always leads and finishes something." With a swirl of bushy hair, Hermione was gone, leaving two curious slytherins alone in the unused classroom.

Tracey looked sideways at her best friend, "Was that an aura? I didn't think teenages could make those appear."

Daphne nodded slowly. "Yes, but did you feel it? You can't hide your aura once it is out."

"What do you mean?" asked Tracey. "I've never seen once before today."

"I've seen my father's a few times when he was angry," began Daphne thoughtfully.. "When someone produces an aura, they reveal their magical core so to speak. While that doesn't sound important, it actually makes feeling an aura a personal experience." At Tracey's confused look, she continued, "You feel what makes the person, well, that person. What did you feel when Potter, no Harry, produced his aura?"

"Harry?"

Daphne shifted uncomfortably, "It doesn't feel right to call him Potter if you understand what his aura meant. What did you feel in the magic that swirled in the air around us?"

"Loneliness," answered Tracey after a moment's pause.

"Exactly," mummered Daphne. "There were a few other undertones, but the most important part of Harry Potter is that he has always been alone in the world. He has no equal around him, and is afraid of other people."

"That seems so… so..." began Tracey clearly lost for words.

"Wrong," finished Daphne. "I just can't figure out why he would be lonely."

"Is it because he isn't social?" asked Tracey.

Daphne shook her head slightly, "No. An aura is deeper than that. It's one of his deepest personality traits. Being lonely was something that was part of him for a large part of his life, I think. I can't say for sure, as auras aren't a book on a person, but you can get a pretty decent idea about a person."

"So we will look into it," said Tracey. "What were the undertones you mentioned? I didn't really feel anything besides loneliness."

Daphne tapped her chin in thought, "I don't think Potter is a braggart anymore. I got a feeling that he doesn't care how people perceive him. And protection. He will protect anything important to him." Daphne stood up brushing off her skirt. "It's really hard to read someone perfectly from an aura, but you can get a pretty solid feel for some basic cornerstones of that person's personality."

"What are you saying?" Tacey stood next to her friend looking at her curiously.

As she walked towards the exit of the room Daphne looked back over her shoulder at Tracey, "That we don't know anything about Harry Potter, not the real one at least."

* * *

Harry sat far atop the castle, on the edge of the highest astronomy tower hidden under his invisibility cloak. The steeped peaks of Hogwarts shone brilliantly, reflecting what little light the night offered, up towards the cloudless sky. He stared out over the castle grounds, lit only by a waning moon. Today he had learned that he was to be married to a girl that he barely knew. Some slytherin pureblood, had managed to take away his future.

"Up late again, my boy." Harry spun sideways to take in the twinkling eyes of his headmaster.

"Erm… Yes sir." Said Harry as he slide his invisibility cloak off. Piling it neatly on his left, he continued, "I'm sorry sir. I was just sorting my thoughts."

"And here I suspected you wanted to be alone," chuckled the aged man, as he eased down next to Harry on the ledge. "I fell in love with this view many years ago. In my first few years here at Hogwarts, I must admit, I held a certain fondness for the library, much like your friend Miss Granger. Later, I came to love the serenity that this view provided."

Harry nodded silently. After a moment's pause he asked, "Why did you come up here at first? The very first time."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It was a very long time ago. I do, however, remember why I sought the refuge of solitude. In my younger years as a student, I, as they say, had shown a great amount of potential. As I grew older in school, I came to understand a troubling conundrum. Academic excellence of that level, is not without its price. I was never able to find many friends as a child, and often, I struggled within myself, about how I appeared to my fellow students. Needless to say, I was able to ignore most of the downsides of being superior academically. However, there was one I could never escape. Solitude. Being without equal, unfortunately means you are without equal." The headmaster smiled to himself in spite of the serious topic.

"Sir? You were lonely in school?" Harry peered curiously at his companion.

"Indeed. Something, I think we have in common." Dumbledore stared knowingly at Harry, who shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "But that is not why we are here, is it?"

"No sir." Harry paused and reached out with his magic. "You have a ward here?" At the Headmaster's slight nod, Harry continued, "It's a detection ward. It feels like it reports back to you. I can trace its magic moving slightly towards you."

"I do indeed have a ward here. I find it prudent to ward the high ledges up here for multiple reasons. One to make sure there is no trouble up here, by means of flying or nighttime wandering, and the other is simply security. "

Harry stared out at the lake mutely. "Do you ever feel like you don't have any control over your life?"

"Never, my boy. The world presents us with choices, but it is our choice what to do with the options we receive. For example I was given the option of coming to see who was up here late at night myself, or sending Professor Snape. Not always is the choice so clear cut, as it is in this case, but the choice is always there."

Harry turned towards the elderly wizard. "What choice do I have in an arranged marriage? What choice did I have with the Dursleys?"

Harry was surprised to see a blink of shock flitter across the headmaster's face, before a frown took it's place. "First before we get into the marriage, the Dursleys, was unfortunately my choice. Between you and I, it was the hardest decision I've ever had to make. I had to choose between your protection being guaranteed at the cost of your happiness, or a risky filled life, filled with danger and terror. I knew I couldn't stop the death eater's from tracking you, unless I performed the blood ward over your Aunt's house." Dumbledore's misty eyes stared out over the grounds unseeing. "I chose to send you to your Aunt's house, knowing they wouldn't teaching like one of their own, but also knowing that no one would be able to find you. I'm not proud of the decision I made, but it is one I would willingly choose again, if it meant sparing you from a childhood of violence and terror. Much to my regret, I didn't anticipate the rage and hatred coming from within the house. Put simply, I made a mistake. I made an oversight in my protections. I had protected you from anyone seeking you harm from outside the wards, but not from those who were already within the wards. I cannot put into words, how much I regret that oversight. Not a day goes by that I don't regret my actions. If there was a way to go back and change it, I would."

"If it's all the same to you, Professor, I wouldn't want you to change it." Dumbledore stared intently at the young student on his side. "If you changed it, I don't know how I would have turned out. Maybe I wouldn't have found out about Sirius, or stopped Voldemort with the Stone, or in the Chamber. I don't condone what the Dursley's did, but that was their actions, not yours."

Dumbledore shifted his weight so he could look up at the sky. "You speak of the butterfly effect. For one so young, I must confess myself amazed at how wise you are, Harry. You make an old man rest easier with your words. Thank you, but it is not your forgiveness I seek, but my own." Harry nodded silently unsure what to say. "Earlier you mentioned marriage. What did you mean?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry bowed his head slightly remembering his conversation from earlier in the day. "I'm in an arranged marriage from becoming the Black heir. Daphne Greengrass is her name. I just found out today. Sir, I," Harry paused trying to figure out his thoughts, "don't know what to feel. I feel like I've had my future snatched away from me. But most importantly, it was my doing that caused this mess. I stole some girls future happiness away from her, when I became Sirius's heir this summer. I went out, with Sirius, against your wishes, and because of it a perfectly innocent girl no longer has a chance to marry a man she loves. I would hate the person that took that chance away from me."

A gentle hand was placed firmly on Harry's shoulder. "My boy, in life there are more powerful things than actual magic. Love can grow in the darkest of places, in the most violent men and women, and at any time. Love is a force of magic that is far more powerful than any power you, or even I, wield. It gives us strength when we desperately need it, lightens our world, and gives us a very reason to survive. I think that if given a chance by two people, love can grow in some form between both people if they both allow it. Think not of this as a failure, but an opportunity."

Harry stared down at his lap. "How can I not think of it as a failure?"

"Dumbledore peered over his half moon glasses down at the young man next to him. "What choice do you have? You can bemoan it, and believe me it is sad, or you can learn from this and give the young lady a chance. what's the worst thing that could happen if you give her a chance?"

"She and her family could die for being associated with me." Harry instantly regretted how harsh his statement sounded. "Sorry sir."

"It's quite alright. You are correct of course, but we must not live our lives in fear. The moment you give into Voldemort and let him start running your life, you have already lost the war."

Harry looked back out over the lake. "So you are saying that giving her a chance, would be the right thing to do?"

Dumbledore laughed slightly. "Of course not. She is a young lady. It's been many years since I have courted anyone, but I believe it is not you who must decide to take the chance. You must earn her trust and also get her to take that leap with you. Love requires multiple people, not just a single person. Alone, you two will never learn to love one another, but as a pair, you can go far together." Dumbledore paused for a moment before commenting, "Harry, I have seen you do amazing things by yourself. Feats even grown wizards can't claim to have done. You are becoming a great wizard and an even better man. I often sit to myself and think what you could do if you weren't alone. Give someone a chance to earn your trust and your heart, and I promise you will do things people didn't think were possible. Love is the strongest emotion, that shapes our lives, and makes us stronger. Give it a chance, Harry, and you will change the world."

Neither spoke much after that. Perhaps it was the serenity of the night, but Harry decided that Dumbledore's thoughts made sense. He owed Daphne an explanation, and an apology for getting her into the contract in the first place. An apology wouldn't be enough of course, but Harry hoped it would be a start of a path towards forgiveness. "Thank you sir. This seemed so daunting, but now I feel like I can do this."

"I don't know… There are few things more daunting than an angry female," chuckled Dumbledore. "However that is neither here, nor there. What is here, is the time for you to head to bed Mr. Potter. Off you trot."

Harry rose nodding his head in thanks to the headmaster. As he made his way down from the tower towards Gryffindor house, he thought back on his conversation with Daphne. She had been hostile, of course, as her future had been taken from her, but she wasn't trying to be anything more than angry. When Malfoy or any of his gang of Slytherins went after younger students, they attempted to bully the students for no reason other than the fact they were stronger. When Malfoy went after Harry, he was simply trying to act out of malice, and in many cases a slight case of jealousy. For all his talk, Malfoy was a rather poor student and struggled more than Harry with magic. With Daphne, both on the train, and today, she was angry, but not malicious. She had a reason to be cross with Harry, and as much as it hurt him to admit it, she had every right to be cross with him.

Harry resolved to find out more about Daphne Greengrass. He knew she was an attractive, redheaded, Slytherin, and that she had a temper, but outside of those few facts, he knew next to nothing. When he had been younger, he had always envisioned having a wife who understood him, and what it meant to be Harry Potter. While that might not happen, Harry wanted to find out what made Daphne, Daphne, what drove her to be feisty, yet intelligent, and what made her get out of bed in the morning. As he crossed the threshold of the Gryffindor common room, he knew that this year, he had another puzzle to solve. This time, however, it wouldn't be a monster, or a tournament, but rather a person. The idea of getting close to someone and learning about them both excited and terrified Harry.

**AN: Lots of dialog this chapter, but it pretty much had to happen. Now that this is out of the way, you get to find out about project Artimus. Woot! Fair warning, the story will take a darker turn, and deal with violence and depression in the future, so if you are not comfortable reading those topics, consider yourself warned.**


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